Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Only the slimmest self-preservation keeps Khun from turning on his webcam for these streams.

That and the chat becoming new levels of insufferable. IF they could see another Khun streaming, the donations would get to levels of absurdity no one could imitate.

The room isn't dark (he'd learned his lesson from his first attempts at streaming), and he's swept up any of his packaging, lest Isu get any ideas of him being disorganized or something. Perish the thought.

Or worse, someone accuses him of snorting cheeto dust or something. Those are disgusting.

Khun adjusts his headset, checks the mic and turns to OBS.

The stream starting overlay mocks him with a cartoon fox running through a field of flowers (he can't believe this thing he'd gotten as a joke had stuck around this long) and the early chat blathering on about the knight character romance H scene or whatever.

He was not looking forward to it. These POV scenes of cringe worthy 2D horny that may have a pixilated anything or worse - a collectible.

Streaming shit games had started as a joke. If Hachuling and his inability to recognize any games past the year 1994 at best could get dedicated followers, let alone the occasional shit mobage stream whale, there was no reason why he couldn't do it, but better.

Granted, his half-brother had a bombastic, excitable, gullible personality. The once a week pulls for cute sparkly character number ninety-nine thousand only did well was because of the god damn whale counter.

Khun did not have such an ability. His personality could be charming, his ideas clever, and his opinions strong. His friends were solid, dependable allies. But he was honestly terrible at the surface, shallow bullshit. Hachuling could troll with the best of them. For him, this was just stress relief.

Chat of course, is already going at it, bitching and moaning around about the route he's on. The vagabond knight, forced into rehabilitation from his mercenary days. He's a swordsman, rarely wore armor. His features were sharp, eyes cold and intent on the task, and constantly suspicious of the hapless heroine.

What Khun wouldn't give to have one of these with an option for a man. Then again, those were usually worse. They always were twenty stereotypes in a glitchy trench coat.

Khun'd gotten his start on indie PC games. He was gentler (for lack of a better word) with those because they didn't have AAA budgets to blew on voice actors and loot box mechanics. He was still critical but on occasion, it was much easier to drag praise from his mouth.

The chat had gotten into the habit of reccing games on sale (he could afford them full price, but they said it was not worth it and they were usually right). Mainly because they were all massive trolls with no night life, but also they tended to enjoy his commentary. He did pick the dark horse faves usually, though, so that might be why. The fan favorites were often picked apart to death.

The exception so far in his run of liking absolute randos has been this game.

Fucking Demon's Sun.

Khun boots up the game, his computer making a soft whirr. The familiar opening plays with a blond girl, all cherub and angels to match the light magic practically oozing out of her pores. She's soon shrouded in darkness by a girl who is just as washed out but sharply beautiful. Beneath their feet, upside down in opposition, a hooded shadow lurks. Unlike the other two, he doesn't turn towards the camera.

Khun didn't pay the rest of the visuals much attention. He'd played them at least twenty times already.

The thing with the game was less that it was bad (most of these recced games were, slop with bland ideas and worse sex scenes that were censored regardless) and more that it was empty.

There were so many features (character routes, dungeon crawling, item making, different outfits, the gallery and sound theaters, puzzles, mini games, the repetitive fucking festival arc that was a halfway mark before the prince's graduation route where he annulled his engagement that there was an awful graphic of him cheating with the protagonist on the first route) but so little of it had world connected significance Khun was convinced the updates were added to delay plot chapters when it was initially put on Steam.

The chat has not dissuaded him of this notion.

Add to that he honestly hates most of the characters. The love interests sucked and were downright nasty, and the villainess even more so no matter how sympathetic she could be.

The only saving grace was the demon lord of the game, who he was still unlocking. Name unrevealed, the closest he got was the word "Indigo" and his hooded face.

Chat repeatedly assured Khun he was attractive but that meant basically shit. He was a Khun, for fuck's sake. Attractive was the bare minimum.

He sighs and cracks his neck before picking up the headset. "Hey. You're late."

His standard greeting, harmless but amused. Kept his voice light and his few consistent viewers sent waving emojis.

An older one, Killer-Blow9397 greets him cheerfully and with points. Khun sighs fondly as he moved his pngtuber into the proper corner. The fox ears and mouth move harmlessly as he does. "You don't need to give me money, Killer. I'm doing this for boredom."

Technically he's doing this so he can kick Hachuling's ass and so his mother doesn't worry he tossed his hobbies out the window. She wants well rounded children out of spite first and foremost.

Chat moves on, with Killer Blow reassuring him he wanted to and to get over it.

Khun lets it go, greeting a few others as the title screen earworm rolls on in his headphones. "Yeah, we should be finishing the reformed mercenary route tonight. That's the last one right?"

As one the chat riots. Khun snorts. "I haven't forgotten your favorite, guys. I haven't seen his face so forgive me for not giving a shit."

About twelve messages pass with various emojis of quality or perversion. A mod casually deletes the pornbot and so Khun moves on.

Adjusting his micset, he calls. "Sound's balanced? Everybody good?"

A few people drop bits in approval.

Despite himself, Khun cracks a grin. "All right, let's get started. Welcome back to Demon's Sun, everybody. Today we're finishing the mercenary route. Let's get started."

And so it goes, another round of cliche dialogue, of the protagonist trying to win over a stoic, quiet former knight with promises that despite his failures to protect his charge (who is only images of brown hair and a round face, a blur of hands too small to protect anyone) he still has honor. He is still worthy of love.

In a moment of weakness, on screen, the mercenary who wants a better life gives into the questionably pretty enough blond girl with magic meant to heal rather than hurt, and they defeat the boss together. The boss who is the cover for the real final boss. Together, their bond is unbreakable, or something.

It's all trite bullshit, really. Love that conquered everything, light that overrode the terrors of the darkness, something meant for children (except for the porn scenes). Nothing that happened here was work. It was tropes and good CG. In reality, all these things did for most was let you muddle along, while for others it would hurt them. For some, sure, it was magic, magic built on effort grown into sediment, but enough of society wasn't built on savoring the experience.

Khun himself knows he's not lived long enough to experience it. Maybe he's also full of shit. But then, would he really be playing this game if he had the real thing in his hands?

"Do you think these people draw anatomically accurate dicks?" Khun asks as he slaughters another vaguely pixilated demon. He almost pities the demons. They're all designed in a generic, stereotypical way. He thinks there was a kidnapping scene at one point. "Or do they do these graphics so they don't have to?"

The chat squabbles over that for a while as another couple of party members appear on screen. "And here we have," Khun drawls. "The obnoxious couple!"

If you didn't take the prince route, which knowing what Khun did now, he probably would have, for once in the game, the prince and the villainess stayed together, obnoxiously unhappy and yet duty bound to the kingdom. If you grinded enough FP (Khun had once, in a fit of pure exasperation, dubbed them fap points and the chat has still not let it go) with him despite with someone else, the prince's secret would come out and then abdicate the throne. It left the villainess in charge and started a whole shenanigan he hadn't fully unlocked so-

Whatever it was made ThiefBod47 bust up laughing, so … there was that.

A couple people actually cheer on their finishing move, which was fair … the first time you saw it.

"I would kill for an offensive spell right now," Khun mutters as the villainess spouts something about how annoying the saintly commoner was. Which, yeah, she was right but don't throw stones in glass houses.

Thankfully the mercenary's attack stat was higher than god and so Khun finishes off this final line of mooks. He stretches, sipping water and taking a quick bite of dried fruit away from the microphone before continuing. "Final boss time everyone?"

There's a resounding digital cheer and multiple messages of advice that Khun promptly ignores. For all its bullshit features it was not a combat based game.

Hours later, the route done and having been convinced into a couple hours of multiplayer mini-game bullshit, Khun logs off and heads to bed. It's almost two in the morning, fuck. He stares at his alarm clock, remembers he doesn't have any classes until noon, and falls right into bed.

Well, the first good news of the day when he wakes up is that he is, in fact, still in a bed.

That said, it's way better than the one in his apartment. The sheets are nicer, and not bunched from his typical tossing and turning. It's also bigger and softer.

Then, Khun's eyes snap open. Where the fuck was his alarm? He was, the sun was streaming into his eyelids, this was not his apartment, when he saw sun through his window there was a problem. He kept curtains closed to sleep with the window open, what the fuck?

This ceiling was not his ceiling. He'd picked a nice apartment. Sure, it was all one room and yes the kitchen was more of a wall with an island than an actual separate space because he didn't need much, but he did not ask for, nor did he require a ceiling painted like the sky with chains for constellations that he'd never heard of. Also! He never rolled over and saw a tea table with chairs that cost more than a rent check with suitably treated wood and flowers he could breathe in without his eyes swelling shut and-

"If this is a prank," Khun mutters. "Then joke's on you I'm going to enjoy it."

No one answers. He's not even sure who could kidnap him. His siblings were out of the city, hell his older sister was in another country. His mother wouldn't even dream of this kind of prank. Maybe Hachuling used his inheritance for something else stupid outside of his dream arcade building. The old man probably didn't even know his god damn name.

Maybe it was Maschenny? No, she'd be in here by now…

"What the fuck," Khun says to himself, incredulous. He shifts further, trying to move towards the edge of the bed, when-

These aren't his pajamas. He loves his fleece pajamas. It was like: 3 degrees outside when he went to bed. Those pajamas kept him warm. Now he's in a … He looks down and lifts up the nightgown.

"Whoever changed me in my sleep is going to die," Khun decides, and rolls himself out of bed. "Slowly. Painfully." Then he looks at his hands again. They were much smaller than before he went to bed.

Panic thumps in his brain and chest cavity as Khun looks around for a mirror. He scrambles out of bed upon seeing one, padding on bare feet to a mirror that is almost twice his current height. For fuck's sake.

The first problem is his face is younger, rounder. The second is that he's shorter, like, half a meter shorter. What the fuck? He was not going through puberty again. His hair was a little longer than he remembered too. Even worse. He hates his hair past his ears.

There's something Khun has to state for himself: his father was rich. That didn't mean his children were rich. They weren't going without. Khun has never been homeless and tricking and winning money from gambles and ventures was something he did. But he never had sheets that silken or beautiful treated wood bedframes like that or a room this big.

So either this was the most elaborate set for a long standing prank in VR or he was in a coma. That was the only explanation he could think of.

Or maybe I've been isekaied, Khun thinks with the hysteria he typically associated with his I'm two hours before group project presentation and my alphabetically chosen teammates have not shown up situations. Fucking electives.

He takes a deep breath. Then, with careful footsteps, Khun examines his surroundings. There's a wall that is just a bookshelf, a full of books of a language his brain doesn't recognize as Korean, Spanish, English or even the bits and pieces of Japanese he'd heard from a few transfer students in the cafeteria. That said, he can still read it. One tome lists spells, fire ones specifically. Another discusses the political geographical conflicts of … the past fifteen years with the Country of Thorns, whose true name had been wiped from all books it had been placed in as a punishment.

The words continue to niggle in Khun's brain, but he puts it to the side to explore. Nothing falls apart at his quick, forceful tugs, so that unfortunately put to rest the set piece theory. It was also physically holdable. He could touch marble and wood. So that removed virtual reality too. That meant for a definition of the word, this place was real.

That or he was in a coma, but this being real meant he could do something about it. Breathing out, Khun reaches the closet. All blues and blacks, a few white shirts, nothing he wouldn't wear, if a bit too fancy for him to bother. He was a soccer player, half of it would be dirty by roughhousing in a matter of minutes.

"Well," he says to himself. "At least the underwear is the same." He doesn't know what he would have done if the underwear was like, thongs or something.

Khun picks a combination that feels comfortable and easy to put on. Upon a quick look for another door (he was avoiding the larger ones with the handles too big for his hands, that would get him lost), he finds a bathroom. It's not as large as the bedroom, but it's close and that's too much to take. Khun mechanically toys with the faucet, watching steaming water and looking for soaps. There's only bars, albeit soft bars of soap that upon contact don't make his skin crawl. There are also two crystal bottles full of what he hopes is shampoo and conditioner, but almost wishes were poison.

"What the fuck?" Khun whispers. "Where the fuck am I?"

As if to mock him, a screen forms in front of his face. Close enough to touch, far enough away that he couldn't grab it and break it over his knee.

"Hello Khun Aguero Agnis!" it says in familiar, flowing script. The script however is against a dark blue screen, and easy to read. It also doesn't sparkle gold, the silver letters smoother. "Welcome to the world of Demon's Sun!"

What. "What?" Khun repeats, dumbly.

The words right themselves, then vanish again, like a scrolling text box. "Welcome to Demon's Sun! I know this must be confusing to you, but I assure you this is necessary! You are now in the role of the Moonlight Queen, the reviled, redeemable, beloved villainess, opposing our charming, humble, hopeful Sunlight Saint!"

Khun breathes in. He turns off the water faucet. He breathes out.

Why the fuck would he be in this game? A game he still wasn't done with? A game he, quite regularly, mentioned he hated?

"Who are you?" Why me?

The screen glitches a little, like, hm, was he not supposed to say that? Okay, good. He had footing now. "I'm afraid I don't have an answer for you. Not now. Perhaps not ever. But! Who I am should not matter, but what I want will interest you. One of the paths of the world is bugged. I would like you to repair it."

"One of the game routes?"

"Whatever you'd call it!" How can a screen sound amused. "Well, put in your terms, an NPC made an error. I tried to repair it, and now the world is deviating dangerously. I'm sure you're aware of the concept of the world ending."

Khun remembers a few bad endings in Demon's Sun. If you didn't romance one person, the world didn't end, but if you built too many affection points with someone and then went for someone else, the saint would end up dying horribly. Or, if you didn't neutralize the villainess or get enough purification power in her levels, the saintess would die to a very specially made poison. The minigame would be hit or miss.

That would also explain the plants he saw in the greenhouse like balcony a few minutes ago that he'd been not looking at.

"A bad end," Khun says. He doesn't dare strip. He wasn't sure if this screen had eyes. "I've played those. Is that why you picked me?"

The screen glitches. Another question that could be abnormal, as it seemed to scroll properly sometimes.

"I picked you because you were available."

Great. Fun. "Fuck you," is what spits from Khun's mouth as he slows down, thinks. "I'm supposed to ensure there's no bad end." Did that mean dying? Did that mean being the villainess to the very end? Did that mean jealousy over a man he didn't know and murdering a girl he didn't know (or like playing as?).

"Something of the sort!" The screen seemed downright pleased. "I knew I picked an intelligent one. However! Please let me make this clear. The point is to bring the world back onto a path, and how that path plays out is entirely up to you. I've tried a few times, and it has resisted. You can take the prince as your own, you can win over the saintess, you can take the Child of Eclipse, whatever you'd like, as long as the world lands on a path that ends."

"And will I get to go home?" He really doesn't want to wake up in a hospital bed. Or worse, miss finals.

"If you want to!"

"Right. Great. Thanks." His breathing calms, the hysteria fades into focus and he-

Well, he doesn't trust the magical screen that looked like the darker version of the UI he was currently loathing. That said, this was all he had. All he had to do was get the game on one of the routes.

"Of course. So, to business. You are Khun Aguero Agnis, chosen representative to wed the newest Prince of Gold. You are thirteen years old and you will meet him today at the Prism's Castle."

Oh. Shit. Right.

He'd forgotten about that. He's not sure how reality will handle that he is, well, a guy. At least in the traditional version of the word. Maybe it's fine to have a gay prince, considering in almost all routes, the king hadn't died, nor actually named an heir, nor likely had one. The prince was a prince for the sake of politics, not because Jahad intended to die.

Oligarchs, really.

"Well," Khun says to himself. "I guess I don't have to be in the closet."

He feels like he's forgetting something about this whole situation.

The screen sparkles silver and then vanishes. On the other side of the room, someone knocks on the double doors.

Khun looks at himself, debates the dignity loss and sighs to himself. "Come in!"

The doors open. There's a man dressed in, well, smartly, a suit and tie. It's storm grey, the tie green and while he would have been taller than Khun no matter how old he was, he makes Khun feel a little small.

Also, he was fit. He could see the slopes of muscles even through the suit jacket and oh right.

Demon's Sun was definitely a porn game. It pretended it wasn't but after route one you could start putting alternate, revealing outfits on the characters. He remembers unlocking the priestess outfit for the saintess and the chat screaming. There were also a lot of H-scenes, with extras to unlock and the version with no censorship was sold on website or at events only. He'd been sent a USB key with that version.

Khun idly hopes he doesn't have to fuck his servants for EXP. Someone had made that mod once for a game he'd played and … man. The videos were something.

But this was a real guy, an actual person who stared at him blankly. "Morning, boss. You're out of bed on time."

His voice is drab, a bit bemused. The screen flickers into view again, smaller, but more clinical. "This is Novick. He has no last name, or has not provided it to you. He's your bodyguard and caretaker. You found him fighting demons with magic and his bare hands when you were young and took him in. He's been loyal to you since, though he also wants to win a fight."

"Morning, Novick." The words slip out of his mouth before he can think better of it, before he can test the waters of how he (or the person he maybe replaced, because would his parents assign a man to a duchess? He's pretty sure the villainess' father is one step from the Emperor's bullshit, as one of his trusted conquering comrades) behaved once before. He can establish a baseline that the person he was preferred to procrastinate on things that were hard, or at least getting out of bed. He's assuming the latter.

The villainess, the Moonlight's Queen, was a young girl who discovered her talent at an early age. She was able to manipulate water, and thus people. It didn't seem corrupting at first, and if it wasn't for the saintess, it may not have been.

To her, Khun remembers the lines as Novick observes him with only a little curiosity, the saintess was an unnecessary measure, a bonus wife, a mistress outright that didn't need to be there. Holy fire corroded, ate at the world around them in its efforts to purify. A commoner having that power was dangerous. There was no one to teach them control.

The saintess, a good person because she was programmed that way, would never do such a thing. The prince chose her, the mercenary, the mage, the teacher lost in the taboo. They sided against the midnight's queen, and the magic of water, both holy and polluted, turned dark and unforgiving.

"Let the water drown," she'd said once, before choking the sweet little girl too stupid to know what she was doing. "Let them all choke," she'd said, poisoning all of their crops, drying up their gardens and rusting their pipes in places it would take too long to heal.

A queen of destruction that ultimately led to the fall of the kingdom … somehow.

Her defeat always awoke the final boss from its slumber. If that fight wasn't done right, there was an awful game over. Bloody, with the sounds of digitized screaming.

"I thought you didn't want to get married." Novick's words snap Khun out of his thoughts. he should get better about that.

Also what kind of servant was this guy? "I don't," Khun says, with feeling. He had been nineteen eight hours ago and the thought was as appealing then as it is now. "But I'm not impressing my fiancee am I?"

"Your sister is still arguing with your old man."

"Is she winning?" Slowly Khun shrugs the nightgown off. Novick is turned away, headed back to the clothes. "I can dress myself."

"Will you?" the man asks and for fuck's sake.

"Answer my question instead of sass me," Khun mutters, stripping fully and getting into the still warm tub.

Novick snorts. "They're tied. I'm pretty sure that's why he's humoring her."

No, Khun realizes as the tension only somewhat escapes his bones. His sister was a much easier marriage candidate. She just wouldn't match the prince because.

The prince in the game was a princess.

This was going to be awful, and he'd not even started the in game territory yet.

Meeting his father at home was an exercise in patience and a healthy dose of masking fear. It was frankly, easier just to avoid him as often as you could. He made it all the more feasible by rarely visiting. Sometimes he'd come on Friday dinners, the once a week time when everyone would be there. Aguero assumed it was intentional, but he came by drunk so who the fuck knew?

In this life, Aguero has the horrible luck to see his father sober.

Khun Eduan (he's wondering if the man was glitched in here, copied in or it was just easier this way) looks at him wryly. Aguero's outfit is meant for combat and respect, which was the point of the marriage. They weren't supposed to marry for love (in these games, love is for recklessness, impracticality, a vulnerability forced by needing to move forward with no choice in the matter), but for power.

It was also excessively difficult to pull off but the chat had not mentioned a villainess and saintesss unlockable route (unless that was the real last one and they were fucking with him.) So it was another example of her, well, unsuitability to the kingdom. The wife of the prince should be down to have her corset stripped and dress torn off in public if need be. These games were fucking weird.

When the prince had turned for love, it had been painful for the villainess. Because the prince could choose. He had the power to choose because he lied about what was between his legs and she, she would have to be married or not have to be at all. Jealousy, Khun knows, is an ugly thing, but humans at their core can be ugly.

His sister meets his gaze. Her dress has short sleeves, any bruises covered by the make of the fabric. There are none of the knife scars that had lined her skin since his first year of high school and wow, he thinks, he should be happy to see that.

He looks up into her face. She's not smiling. Camilla had struggled to smile for years, before everything went down on graduation and he'd had to cope with being a part of a big picture problem. But this face looks less forced into it. She's looking between him and their father with the dry hate kindling Aguero uses when he's one question away from kicking it all over.

It makes sense Alexi was no different.

Aguero smirks instead. "Morning, noona. Who won?"

"Guess," she says dryly.

Aguero laughs, mind racing. "You should have known."

"Someone had to try."

The villainess in Demon's Sun had no full-blooded siblings barring a sickly little brother who the saintess healed at the end of the prince's route, forcing him to bend the knee to their new kingdom. He'd been supposedly wedded off to a younger princess a decade later, a puppet and nothing more.

"Mother is busy," he assumes as the screen helpfully provides more information for him. His little brother Gabriel had been ill two nights ago and it always took three to get him back on his feet. Plus, mum was probably absolutely furious about the whole engagement but didn't have the pull to divorce.

Did divorce exist in Demon's Sun? Was there even holy matrimony in the eyes of god? Cheating and polyamory obviously hadn't put his old man into an early grave.

"Unfortunately." They both ignore Eduan, who watches them with that sly grin that Aguero knows he has worn on his own face more times to count. "So Maria will chaperone you instead."

Who?

The screen flickers next to Alexi's ear. "Khun Maria Jahad, who often spent time with you in this castle. One of the Emperor's many potential heirs. Very exuberant, supportive of all your endeavors, but wishes you put more effort into things."

Ew, a babysitter. "Not you?"

Alexi shakes her head. "I lost. So."

Aguero dares to risk a glance at this data version of his father. He looked a little younger in this world. Aguero considers having a teen temper tantrum for the fun of it but-

Ugh, puberty again. Could he time skip that part?

"It's almost like it was planned," Aguero says before he can stop himself.

Eduan chuckles. Alexi merely looks more made from granite. She reaches over and takes his hand. There are bruises on her palms. She pulls him closer. He can smell perfume, faint but right enough to cover the rusty scent of blood and sweat.

"Be careful," she tells him.

Aguero doesn't look at his father. He doesn't imagine- well, he doesn't know what to imagine. "Be safer," he says instead. A thing he told Milla in her darker moments, when she walked on a tightrope at an escapable edge.

"The carriage has arrived," Novick announces. He must have left before Eduan arrived because he gives the man a barely respectful bow.

The old man doesn't seem to care and waves off his hands. "Have fun. I'll see you later."

Prick. Aguero doesn't bow, because he has never shown his neck to his father and won't start now. The system hadn't said something about being able to be killed by this shit. He wouldn't take any chances on it though.

Novick led him out to the sharp gates and carefully cultivated home. Aguero makes the mistake of turning to look back.

The villainesses and other nobles usually had grandiose dorms and houses, castles that earned the name noble. They were more audacious, too beautiful and expensive forw ords and understanding.

Looking at it now, even with the knowledge his room was large by Korean standards, it seemed … small. Fragile.

Expendable.

Aguero turns away and enters the carriage with a nod of long suffering to Novick. The older teen has the gall to raise his eyebrows.

"A.A!" Maria chirps the second he sits down. Her dress is all dark blue, sparkling with what could be sequins or actual jewels for all he knows. There's a red pin in her hair, marking her favor with the emperor. "You made it!"

… This is a porn game. The king probably did sleep with all his favored chosen ones. His dad did it. The emperor legalized it probably. That was gross to think about.

"I thought you'd be back in the main castle," he says before she can shove him half in her chest and send them both toppling around the carriage with the poor balance of standing on a soon to be moving vehicle in heels. "With Jahad."

It's brief, but as she pulls away, Maria pulls a face. Then it's back with a smile. "Endorsi-unnie is back from the academy," she says cheerfully. "It gets awkward with her dancing around doing the inevitable and pretending she's all into it."

And that was something he didn't want to know. "Not everyone can be Maschenny," Khun says. The carriage starts to move.

Maria sits back and laughs. "To be honest I think she wants to go to the Prism Tower but asking requires giving back. She's quite allergic to that."

"Sounds it." None of these names mean anything to him. They were sprinkled in bits of lore, names in clickable text books and locations where you bought items and equipment. None of it was real. Not until now.

Isu was going to kill him if he got out of here.

Chapter Text

The king visits one morning.

This is common, once or twice a week to check that he, that no one, has let Viole leave.

Viole has been here long enough to not react to him anymore. Or at least, not to react until he says anything or does something. Everything is too much outside of the tower beyond the courtyard, and in it there was very little. At least there were flowers and the monsters were nice. So were the servants.

Demons made their home here. Not in this castle, but there were a few, as leverage.

Still, this one feels more so. The king is always perfectly dressed. He could walk in dirt and come out spotless. Now he's in regalia, draped in golds and reds. The man looks at him. It's never like Viole is dirt, but calculating his value in the moment for a potential buyer, or decently useful situation.

His jailer was predictable. He didn't typically leave Viole alone, per say, but he was very determined to remind him how pointless rebellion would be anyway. Not that Viole knew where he would go or what rebellion would cause. There was more incentive for him to stay put, even if everyone here didn't seem to understand personal space.

Now, Jahad stalks over (he's sure the man is just walking but he feels like prey pinned to his chair) and lifts his chin with a finger. Viole used to resist and Jahad liked that, so he doesn't now. He seems satisfied either way. There's no winning with monsters.

Those gold eyes meet his own. "There will be a contract weaving today, a betrothal of one of my princes with another. You are to bear witness and record the contract."

He'd borne witness to contracts before, mostly to parade the half-demon that no one wanted and everyone felt they were owed. But it was also a threat. Demons were better contractors than humans, and recorded them in case of oathbreakers. They were not always fair, and many who relied on them were usually putting loopholes into everything to ensure their terms came through but not the human's.

For a moment, Viole considers saying no. Saying yes would only bring misfortune to someone else again, as it always did. It would be nice if the King was less of a storybook villain.

Instead, because he is a bystander, and his hands are tied, Viole says. "What am I to record?"

The man doesn't smile. He never does. His eyes express for him, the strength of his hands, the brutal efficiency of it all, as he explains.

Homesickness and nausea fill Viole's esophagus like bile and he nods, writing it down.

"See it done and you will be rewarded."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

There is no reward for Viole and they both know it. The reward is the king's pleasure and amusement at victory.

*A Khun and a Prince of Jahad." Not a princess, it couldn't be more mocking if he'd tried. Still, the power in the contract was all Viole's.

After all, Viole was a half-demon, and that gave him an incredible power as a contractor: he could lie.

He wasn't an accomplished liar, but the information on the contracts he recorded could appear true, as long as the ones who are listed on the contract didn't know all the details.

A rare but valuable weapon. He at this point, mostly used them for brothel terms, or times like this, when the king wanted him to pull a power play on someone.

"Don't disappoint me," Jahad continues. "They will arrive tonight."

Evening, because the twilight of dusk and nightfall brought out the best magic for a half-creature like him.

Supposedly.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Viole hates for just a moment, before the energy fades.

In video games, you could fast travel to where you watned to go, and the most you suffered was the indignity of an overly detailed loading screen. Some of them were neat. Aguero had always liked the maps of each location he had gotten in the last game he'd played.

Demon's Sun just went through all your unlocked CGs. Jerks.

Unfortunately, this is currently the real world, and aside from the teleportation circles to make it closer to the Prism Tower, they still had to well, get there. Maria chatters away for a while, not about the engagement. Not about what she does for the emperor. Everything but that. She complains about Alexi too, and how rudely she shuns everyone around her.

At this, Aguero snorts. "If you wanted her to be sociable you should let her talk first."

She'd given him an odd look for that and he'd looked away to avoid how awkwardly (in another world, seductively) her dress showed her thigh.

He's glad she doesn't have a model in-game. Chat would have never let him hear the end of it. They'd have dumped and cursed the emperor more than they already did in the chat for being useless.

"You know how she is," Maria huffs eventually. "You Agnis are all the same though. So independent. What if there's someone who can help?"

"They usually don't," he replies, because that was a sentiment from many of his friends. He answered well with deals, worked with bargains. Naive offering assistance always had strings later, so he never accepted them.

Maria rolls her eyes. "You're too stiff, A.A. A husband will help."

Did she think he was just a modestly dressed girl or something? He hoped not.

"Anyway, you get to see the contractor's face!" Maria beams. "His Majesty never lets us that close anymore. They say he's too tempting."

Too tempting. "Is he that attractive?"

"Oh yes." Maria giggles. "Yuri-unnie said so. That's why he's always wearing a hood."

You have got to be kidding me. He actually remembers that description from the chat. Wait, how did you even start that questline? The heroine doesn't even show up for another three years! Does it start with the villainess and the heroine steals him from her? No wonder she hates them."If you're thirsty, just go after him."

"Father would be upset."

It takes Aguero a much longer moment than he wants to admit to tell the two apart. He can almost hear Novick laughing outside. "Hasn't stopped you before."

"You're no fun."

He ignores her. So he's going to meet the final boss after all, in real time. And not pixels.

Great. He has no expectations.

Eventually the carriage slows and Aguero risks poking his head out the window.

Prism Tower was a place close to Constellation Academy but far from the general territories of the nobles who go there. It demanded independence and self reliance and building factions of your own without parental influence.

People just brought more lavish displays of wealth and money. The villainess wasn't immune to this, but it was how she used it that turned heads. She turned it to the community of her village. She turned to find those with power, both noble and commoner alike, to fulfill her whims.

Brainwashed would whisper across the school, but she merely laughed with her head held high on screen.

"What do I have to be ashamed of," she asks the protagonist with a haughty laugh. "You think because you have the blood and spent of a baron in your veins, that you are noble, and that because you scrubbed a few sheets that you're common and understand them? You could never. How dare you? I will go and learn and see with my own eyes, my own hands."

It had fallen on deaf ears, of course, but Khun still remembers saying to the chat, "She's got a point."

The protagonist defenders were on his ass for hours after that. He'd only not cut the stream early out of spite.

He wonders where he stands now, at thirteen. She had to have started before the academy days, if Novick was a good example.

Aguero watches the Tower grow closer. Though it was a misnomer, as there was a small area around it (he said small, it was more of a market town), the Tower looms, rainbows of color coming off of the walls and windows. Magic dances from the base to the ceiling, unhindered by the way the walls were built.

"The seal's as strong as ever," Maria muses.

The seal was weakening actually, but that was not Aguero's problem. His goal was to get the game onto a proper route, even if it meant releasing the final boss to ensure a successful route end. He's not sure about how it starts to weaken or even why, but it was a standard part of the game and therefore set in stone.

It breaks outward, Aguero remembers, not inward. "There's not exactly a lot of demons there to keep sealed. They're mostly dead."

"The Demon Queen is there," Maria says in her most ominous tone of voice. "That is enough of a concern. If she ever gets free, she could destroy the whole continent in a matter of hours."

Aguero watches the coach slow. The Demon Queen wasn't the final boss, and she was definitely not that powerful. He'd found her in her cell, chained to her bed with a sword sticking out of her gut. It had been a very gory CG. She'd begged them to save her son with her last breath. They'd never found him. Even the final boss never found peace, dying screaming like a child.

Aguero decides not to think about the implications as Novick meets the guard at the gate. "That sounds like it'd do us a favor."

Maria looks at him curiously. "You think so, A.A?"

God why did he open his mouth? "Countries are strongest during wartime." His voice is steady. "Or they can pretend to be. Since we're no longer allowed to to fight as nations, economically, we have other ways. So we're stuck conquering territories, exploring to other continents and colonizing them. If the Demon Queen and whoever else is freed, we have an excuse to go to war. It'll hide the fact that the economy is starting to stagnate and that the commonfolk are restless for revolt. A common enemy to find a solution."

He shrugs at the look on Maria's face. She quickly slides her open mouth into a smile and leans forward. This would be fine if she wasn't shoving her chest in his face. He has no idea if incest is legal in this world and he doesn't want to know.

The carriage picks up once more.

"You should be more careful who you say that to, A.A." She leans back with a harmless little smile. "People might think you're gunning for a revolution."

"Why would I do something like that?" he says immediately. "I'm going to be tied to the royal family. Why would I need to?"

The answer is the villainess, losing the only love she'd thought she had.

Sex was common. As long as it didn't produce children (there were spells for that, no matter the gender), it could happen all the time. It could happen to anyone.

Khun tries not to think of the mercenary route, of the prince's route, and many of the bad endings.

In this society, with a father who had many mistresses, and the mistresses fought for a scrap of sex and power, the villainess was a pariah for avoiding it due to the sheer respect and admiration she had for her mother. Her mother didn't need to seduce Khun Eduan a second time, he can see it in her memories. Like she did every time, she just showed her worth through her children. If Gabriel was healthier, he knows, mother would have become a true favored concubine. And that would have been the end of it.

Aguero pinches his nose. He can feel her rage, her fury and desperation. No wonder she agreed to marry a prince who wasn't even a man. She must have thought they were the same, with the same expectations, the same failure.

She was wrong. The prince wanted to be true to herself and damn the world for it. Marrying the Moonlight Queen was a punishment and the prince blamed her, as kids do.

The one benefit of going to college was a lot of re-contextualizing bullshit. He hated that.

Aguero leans back as Maria says, "Well, you've always aimed high for areas with little struggle."

"Rude." He's not going to argue it though.

"We've arrived," Novick calls as they roll to a stop.

Finally.

Novick helps them down, which Aguero tolerates for the sake of his clothes. Inside, the area is quiet. There aren't any servants in view. At most, there are creatures, walking around and fulfilling those duties, or magic sprites passing by. If Aguero looks left, he can hear the bustle of the market even from the distance.

Maria taps her feet excitedly, hopping in place just a little. "Oh, it's time! It's time!"

Aguero sighs. "Maybe you should marry the prince."

She pauses in place and turns, lifting her skirts with ease. "Why would I do that, when I have the king in my hands?"

Aguero tries very hard not to roll his eyes.

They're guided to the courtyard and told to wait, as the prince has a longer route of arrival. Not a great first impression, but whatever.

Aguero settles on one of the planter edges. Maria is on the other side of the garden, scrutinizing the dark flowers mixing with pinks and yellows. All the blooms over there looked so delicate, as opposed to where the tree roots grow by his hands. It seems incapable of dying, brilliant rainbow leaves that glow violet and darken to black when fallen or plucked. Aguero traces one with his finger pads. It's oddly soft, like the thin plastic of sequins.

There's a strange sound overhead, he noticed. It's a couple trees over, high and warbly. It's a little familiar too.

Then it meows and Aguero looks up. There's a black kitten sitting on a tree branch. It doesn't look frantic yet, but is letting out puzzled mewls likely for its mother, the warbly sound noises of "where's mom? how did i get up here?" that Aguero knows from the neighbors downstairs and their four cats. How they managed that in their one bedroom apartment he doesn't remember.

This one looks a few shades off from a regular cat. The purple eyes, yes, but it's the thinness of the hair, the gems running down its spine, little blue-violet dots of light. The tufts of fur are almost cartoonish.

Those had to be hatchlings of the feral cat enemies that came out in late game, pure fur and magical spirit. So they could look less likely to kill you.

It continues to meow plaintively. It was a cat so it could probably get down on its own. Aguero also doesn't know the reaction the prince(ss) and their entourage would have to see him covered in dirt stains.

There's footsteps to his right. Broken in leather boots and crushing of grass. Aguero turns his head to see someone pressing their hands and feet to the trunk of the grown tree. Brown hair in a little ponytail, a robe with its hood down. They have almost elfin features, barring the dull golden eyes. They're sliding oddly into pink, like a sunset.

Their clothes aren't suited for climbing but they do so anyway, hands and feet well practiced as they reach the branches and tug the kitten down. It climbs up their shoulders as they sit down on the branch for a moment of rest. Crisp, clean clothing, a quiet frown on their face until they scratch the cat under the chin.

"Be careful up there," Aguero calls before remembering he is a child and not a babysitter.

They blink, look down and promptly lose their balance. Aguero gets to his feet, ready to dive forward. But they flick their free hand and their descent slows. It's so easy, watching them land on their feet in the grass.

Their gazes meet: blue-violet and pink-gold. Tiny red and blue nubs of horns poke out of the messy hair, barely held in place by a ponytail.

Aguero's heart thumps. Its rapid percussive beat turns the tips of his ears pink and makes panic hot in his belly.

Fuck you chat, he thinks spitefully as a status window opens to the side of the boy's face.

'Final Boss: Demon Heir Jyu Viole Grace met! Stats: unknown. Profile: unknown. Rank: 0.'

Fucking chat was right.

For once, Aguero is grateful to Maria for coming and being nosy. She sees them staring at each other, one panicking inside, the other confused and blank, and skips over to intervene.

Though there's also a bit of hunger too, and he doesn't want to think about that much. She's ambitious and willing to struggle. But she's also willing to cheat, and sex was a valuable mechanic to cheat in like, most of the routes. It was a requirement to unlock the prince too.

Great.

Maria slides in front of them so smoothly Aguero can almost pretend she didn't sprint in heels. At least her corset held her together. The last thing they needed was to bury the last boss in some stranger's chest, especially when he was clearly not here for it.

"Greetings, heir of the Country of Thorns," she says, as if she's not being the most insulting bitch ever. "I am Khun Maria Jahad, here escorting Khun Aguero Agnis for his contract."

Aguero keeps his face carefully blank because she's smart enough to not use gender but dumb enough to not use their home's name. How can you insult a demon like that? It's one thing to not know the name of their creator, or the magic they grew from, but this, he did know this. The rulers of the Demon Realm didn't bother with gender, but had used it for humans. Aguero is pretty sure it's because, in a spoiler he read, the heroine uses a spell to pretend to be a man to break into the Prism Tower and is caught by the last love interest - of course you seduce the final boss, you go through the whole game without really understanding him. He seemed untouchable, unbreakable, only to be killed, but not bent.

Aguero thinks as he straightens, meets that gold-pink gaze again. The easiest route to set to rights would be the prince's route. Give the heroine what was best and easiest, and let his own life processs from there.

On the other hand, the villainess usually died. Awfully. In the prince's route, it'd been exile to an "unnamed land". In the mercenary route, she'd tried to kill the love interest directly and was sentenced to death for attempting to kill a war hero.

It'd been the only route where her desperation had been true. She was still the prince's fiancee, blue and black makeup running on her face in bruised rivulets, howling as she stabbed and stole water and air from the man's lungs. When they'd pulled her away, she'd cried-

"The only person who ever saw me, you failed him. You always failed him! And now he's gone."

There'd been no reaction or reveal in game. It had come up in a side story, where the mercenary had agreed with the villainess. There's regret in his eyes, warm and dark and bitter.

The heroine, in her perfect purity, says, "You can't change it now. You just have to do better with your next person to protect. I'm sure he'll forgive you."

It had felt trite then, and staring at the demon child, half-human and clearly broken, it feels so now.

Perhaps this moment had belonged to her. A little teenage girl, scared about going through a marriage, meeting a lonely boy who had shown kindness to a cat with another girl escorting her like she was a trading card. Those gold-pink eyes stare at him, glancing briefly at Maria. There's something frightening there, a depth of fear contained by being watched.

So Aguero thinks back to the lore books scattered through the library, used to buff the INT stat.

He's wearing pants, so he bows politely instead. "I greet the future light of the Starless Sky."

To enter the realm of demons was a willingness to trust the darkness of the world. Humans craved the light demons stole, sure, but demons are beautiful and appreciated the darkness for what it was. The stereotypical light and darkness argument was as trite as ever.

But the villainess also went after the final boss when he appeared in the background … why? What's he missing?

"My name is Khun Aguero Agnis. I look forward to the constellations you draw for me and mine."

God he hopes he phrased that right.

The brief pause and the way his hair stands on end makes Aguero's blood pressure bolt up.

Then they (he?) bows just as low and murmurs. "It's a pleasure to meet the future jewel of the next crown. My name is Jue Viole Grace."

A carefully phrased sentence, promising a polite relationship and no greeting or indication of disobedience. Would he be the responsibility of the prince or him?

Aguero already hates it.

Maria beams. "Excellent work A.A! I'll go check for the prince."

She's gone before he can stop her, leaving the two of them alone.

They both stare. Viole looks away first, scratching under the chin of the kitten instead of interacting. It's awful. They're teenagers.

Aguero breaks first. "Sorry about that. She was pretty rude."

Viole blinks once, then twice. He (he'll go with he, that's what was in the game) doesn't speak. He looks pitiful, like a rabbit in a cage.

He hesitates but continues anyway. "You don't have to be formal with me. Actually, don't. Ever. Just call me Khun. Or Aguero. I'll call you VIole, and I promise to not be weird about you ever again."

Viole blinks again. Then he nods uneasily. "Khun-ssi?"

Close. "That'll do." For now. "You've written the contract?"

Viole's shoulders, which had loosened a little, tense up once more. He nods. "You will be able to review it when your bonded-to-be arrives."

Shit. "I can guess what it says anyway. Demons don't waste time with lies and prefer loopholes. You were likely commissioned to do both, so no one wins in this scenario."

Viole's eyes flicker, a little brighter in shade. "I am not allowed to divulge anything."

Aguero waves his hand. "You don't need to. I get it. So, do you live here? At this tower."

Viole nods. The kitten winds to his lap, purring. His blank face loosens just a little. "As long as I can remember."

"Why?" He didn't see this from the routes he'd completed. The mercenary had cried finding that tiny body, broken in places and forbidden to take adulthood steps on his own, silent weeping sobs the heroine had kissed away, so strong for those powerful but thin shoulders.

Viole blinks, mouth opening and closing. Then he looks down at his hands. His nails are a softer black, purple energy sparkling over his fingers.

"If I stay in the Starless Sky too long," Viole murmurs. "The Sky will brighten and my home will go to war for its beloved ruler. That's forbidden. And it is punishment for our ruler, for straying to one human and not another."

He scratches the side of his neck. Something burns near his fingernails, too angry and fresh to identify what it is.

Aguero looks at him for moments too long. "I see. Do you miss it?"

Viole doesn't answer for a long time. Then he says. "I miss home."

And Aguero thinks of his little apartment, the black blinds and half dead egg pan, the sheets he'd gotten from his own money. The cafe a few streets down from his university where the baker made it all from scratch with two other staff members, smiling as he was covered in flour and frosting, giving him an extra bread for good luck at a game.

Long hours with his friends studying and practicing for games, speeches, meets. Volunteering for debate and cutting his opponents down.

Even his computer and bright overlay would be comfortable now.

Me too, he thinks, soft like a child and full of pity. Viole looks so broken and young, younger than what has to be thirteen.

"Will you make a contract with me?" Aguero says, watching those eyes widen with something he refuses to define. "I will lay out the terms after today, I know you can't make two contracts in a day, but it will be a secret between us."

Viole stares at him. He looks not hopeful, but terrified and Aguero cannot blame him.

Sorry, npc, he thinks, trying to ignore the thumping of his heart. I need to use you to make it out of this alive, and to be a jewel on multiple crowns is the best way.

Viole opens his mouth to answer, likely to refuse, ask for elaboration, but then a trumpet echoes across the courtyard and Aguero glimpses the trail of Maria's dress. Viole stiffens into oddly fragile stillness and the kitten burrows against him as he quickly throws up his hood. With it on, those gold-pink eyes flicker and glow in the dark.

A voice calls them down and Aguero smooths the creases in his clothes.

"Showtime," he mutters.

Prince Elliot, like all of the royalty with Jahad's name, were not his by blood. If he had actual children, Aguero had never seen them. The rumor was that he couldn't have children. It was never said loud enough to hear, but everyone thought so.

His hair was long and the forest green, tied to fall gently down his back. Cold eyes, like the tundra. There could be warmth there, but unlike the villainess, Khun knows what isn't meant for him.

He's dressed from head to toe. The clothes are erotic purely in a "I want to rip them off/take you apart piece by piece/devour you" way, and the sharp jawline was effective. But his expression was like a mask, too stiff to be inviting.

Beside him is a girl, librarian stiff and with a fox at her side. The wolf that belonged with the prince was nowhere to be found.

Aguero had been around enough football players. He knew attractive men. The prince was, but not the type he'd go for.

So he keeps his smile on out of politeness and bows. "Fiancee." The word sticks like caramel, and all the sweeter for how the prince's nostril's flared.

"It seems our fathers are mocking us." The yet to be revealed princess' voice is sufficiently low enough that you could wonder either way. "Regardless, you and I will make this a successful partnership despite our family's mischief."

Duty and honor made idiots out of so many. Though it was confusing. By game rules, shouldn't he have been seen as a woman? Was it a glitch due to the game being broken?

A screen pops into view and away, laughing it seemed.

Aguero smiles away the frustration and says. "By your leave, Elliot."

Another successful flare of annoyance and the prince turns away, walking up the stairs to the altar as nonchalantly as he can muster. It's very little and Aguero bites back a laugh.

Viole stands quietly in front of the glass stained window. The painted glass made him look like a fallen, cursed monster, glass wings carved and shattered in endless fractals. It matches the roundness of his face.

Really, if their families were smart, the nearly three years of difference in age did the relationship no favors. Neither of them knew how to people, and Aguero's over twenty-one years of age sure didn't have a master course in it.

Viole offers them both a single sheet of paper. The contract was written so each word settled into your brain and sealed into your magic. You didn't need to read it properly, only be prepared for the consequences of signing it.

Aguero had to be better than that.

They took it and red-hot something courses through his veins worse than any fever, more than an illness or pain or a broken limb. It centers on the base of his skull, knowing and promises and concepts and punishment all given room where his brain couldn't register it.

Beside him, Prince Elliot sweats. His already light skin has gone clammy, hands shaking and almost bloodless.

"Do you swear?"

Despite bearing witness, Viole's voice is composed. Surely he must be bearing it too, the consequences of making the damn thing. But he is quiet and still. Nothing will move him.

And so Aguero knows, he must be the same way. He forces himself upright through the pain, feeling Maria's curious gaze on him. Maybe there's a little concern there but it's unlikely.

"I swear," he says with more certainty than he feels.

"I swear," grunts the prince, not to be outdone.

A quill floats over Viole's fingers and he nods. "And so it will be."

The world clatters into clarity, pain fading into a horrid clarity of purpose. Beside him, Prince Elliot (Elaine, his body reminds him, even if she may never use the name willingly towards him) straightens, dignity of purpose the only thing keeping him (her) upright.

"And so it has been sealed," Viole says. His voice is water, sliding into cracks and locked doors through gaps. He steps away from them, as if aware a demon would not go unpunished for closeness to the light.

Aguero summons the contract in his mind. Then he smiles after a few moments.

"I think everything is in order," he says, as if there is no pain. He bows to Viole and Viole alone, continuing to smile.

Yes, if he wrote this contract, Khun can and will make him write another one.

One that will give him everything he wants.

Chapter Text

Waking up in the villainess' home is no less disorienting every day after. It'll take weeks to get used to such opulence, Aguero is pretty sure. But he can admit the magic is nice.

After the first few days, he'd tried it for himself. His hands had chilled and the water had slid around his skin.

Most people used objects or weapons. The amount of magic tools he'd taken for granted in the game were real now. People like the heroine and the villainess were exempt from these rules of course. Such was the importance of their rivalry. They had to be special. Even the love interests had the limitation unless the heroine gave them a boost.

Aguero spends a couple hours weaving water into small icicles, making basic shapes and building links like chains. It's little, and each instant makes his skin puff up in goosebumps. He lowers the water back into the bucket. The pressure eases on his shoulders and Aguero-

Struggles for a while. Magic, in this fever dream world, is real. He's now under a contract to marry, something he had avoided, even in the upper class echelons of the Khun family affairs. He can't just escape it, slide out due to the prince's inevitable infidelity. There were stipulations, expectations. The best way was to out the prince as a woman, not because she couldn't inherit the throne but because there were other princesses who could, and it going to him as an outsider and not frequent victim of the king's vices was not allowed.

If Aguero remembers right, it only went to the heroine because she either a, gave it up and that was a secret test of character, or b, was actually a secret relation to the emperor by blood and not adoption. He's pretty sure it's the latter. It was a power fantasy after all, who wouldn't want to rule a flourishing country for free?

The villainess certainly hadn't, hence why she'd clung so tightly and not given up on the prince despite knowing their secret. This was her only way out, aside from abandoning the life she loved and risking dying from the contract.

Even now, Aguero can close his eyes and envision the contract before him. It's thorough, covering many clauses and preventing loopholes. It was unlike most demon contracts, completely opposite to the contracts the emperor had made to rule over and create this land with his friends.

Demons, like fae, found explicit lying in contracts to be boring. It was the game of taking souls that interested most of them. How people found their ways in and out, how people and their desperation broke even the strongest of wills.

Was the final boss a half-demon? Everything was airtight when he envisioned it in his head. The only stipulations to end the contract on her part were a) if the prince's secret were revealed by the villainess to backers, thereby tanking her reputation in the process, b) the villainess or prince ended the contract due to finding better, which had to be mutual), or c), the villainess completed treason, thereby screwing them both over. Anything else would breach the terms and either take their innate magic or kill them.

(There's a neutral end where the princess loses her magic and the heroine saves them. He'd almost been sick at the idea. The woman had cheated on her fiancee to live her dream and pay off her family's debts and would get off scot-free, unlike the legions under her command who had suffered for that dream.)

There is one loophole that Aguero has found so far, and it's not one of malice or amusement. All it is is in the text.

The contract is void if the prince commits infidelity.

As if preparing for the possibility.

And the prince would, it's part of the canon story. How would the contractor know? Unless the emperor knew, and wanted it to happen.

Aguero sighs and throws the paper he'd been scratching on into the water. It dissolves.

There's nothing he can do about this now, is there?

His job is to get thing back onto a route, and from what he can tell, letting things play out the way they are with the prince would solve that.

But-

"Hey, system," he says, confident he's alone in his room. Novick had left for a hunt. He would be able to join them in roughly a year (urgh he had to go through puberty again).

A screen, silver and blue, appears before him. "Greetings, otherworlder."

Aguero tries not to scoff. "What diverted the world from a route? You mentioned an NPC."

"Oh!" There's a pause. "I am surprised you bothered to ask."

Aguero's eyes twitches. The system thinks it's funny, huh?

"In this world, people are provided with fates, and all their choices lead to it in the end. Much like death. This NPC became aware of it, knowing of things that they shouldn't, potential futures. Of course, they're not aware of being watched, but they did something similar to what I am doing with you. They dragged another into this world. Only the heroine was meant to arrive one day, as is fate."

That's true, the heroine was a player insert. So them being from another world was - understandable, if disturbing by the world's logic - if only because the heroine decided the fates of everyone in the country with the choices she did or did not make.

"Who did this?" Aguero finally asks.

The screen freezes then recovers to say, "That information is not given to the weak. You are not in a place to use it."

He should bristle. In fact, Aguero does because he's doing this mission half-cocked with so little. What if it's related to the final boss, the person who'd just practically signed Aguero's death warrant in this world? What if it was him?

Well, no, he can write him and the prince off. If they'd been the ones to be brought here, they'd have done everything they could to escape their fates. After all, no matter what, the prince's happy endings were limited. As long as they were players olike him, they wouldn't have been this close to the story. So that meant the person who brought someone in had the other person transferred as a proxy for their situation. It would be less suspicious that way and-

"Well, if you discover it, it can't be changed regardless. Still, since you are in need of information, allow me to give an upgrade."

Aguero opens his mouth to refuse -mysterious benefactors don't exactly have your back on these matters after all- when the blue and silver screen glitches and fades away and reloads a few seconds later.

A small box plops into his hands. It glows soft blue. It floats up to his shoulder. "Is this a nightlight?"

"Incorrect!" The screen buzzes back to life so quickly Aguero checks to see if his eardrums have popped. "This is a lighthouse. It is capable of storing data and analysis. SInce you are operating on an incomplete knowledge base, we have gifted you with this. Only you can see and use it for now, so we hope you are grateful for this boon!"

I'm grateful for having a tool you gave me when you put me in this situation to begin with. Aguero bites his tongue, a difficulty for a college student with a casual interest in debate club. "So how do I use it?"

"You'll have to figure that out!" And then the screen vanishes as his sister knocks.

Aguero sighs and calls her in. "Already?"

Alexi nods. The bruises that had adorned her face and neck were gone now, like they'd never happened in the first place. What separated the noble families from the commoners was their ability to heal and basically dismiss diseases. That would have been nice when he got pneumonia courtesy of a prank but whatever. "The tower again. The butler has done up the carriage."

Good. The tower was where the contract maker was. This time, he would get the final boss' name from his own mouth.

Not that it hadn't shown up on the status screen but not knowing him, pretending in any way he could, was a step in the right direction. He had to get the demon's child on his side at any cost, if only so he had one ally.

As he stands, his head aches and he hears the villainess' scream, a sound of earnest love. Aguero shakes it off and goes to follow Alexi. She was allowed to visit now, as she wasn't bruised but for the past few weeks, it'd been Aguero and Maria.

And gods did she have a lot to say. So much even. Getting her to be quiet was an exercise in find the religion he'd abandoned in his youth. At one point, Aguero had almost wanted her to 'accidentally' flash him just for something other than her voice.

Alexi, in turn, is much quieter, and focused on observation. Aguero can't complain about it, even if she says things under her breath that were … questionable by his not brain rotted by a sexually exploitative universe standards.

At this point he's just glad people try to wait past the age of thirteen to encourage that.

In fairness, Alexi mostly mutters about violence instead. Infinitely preferable to how Maria comments on her foster sisters' fashion choices and who is catching whose eye. Or the way the king looks at her.

Yikes. Some people have no standards at all.

So it's quiet, the lighthouse can organize the information he's hearing without giving anything away to others. Very useful, so he can access things so quickly. All he knows, and all the old game data points, there at a flick of the finger.

Too bad the only other love interest he remembers is the mercenary.

Aguero sighs, and Alexi raises an eyebrow at him. He waves a hand. "Just thinking."

"That was your first mistake, wasn't it?" she murmurs dryly.

Aguero flicks ice at her and gets ignored.

The Prism Tower remains as grand as ever. It glows in the midday sun as someone approaches their carriage. The demon lord's child stares at him blankly though the fringe of his bangs.

"You should cut that," he remarked as Novick helped him down. "It looks dry."

Alexi snorts. "Not everyone is you, Aguero."

"I'm the pinnacle of good health," he sniffs before looking at the other again. The demon heir's face was uncomfortably pale, golden eyes round as coins in his face. "You don't have to, just think about it…?"

He trails off and inclines his head. "Viole," the contractor says abruptly. His tongue fumbles, like it's the wrong word. But he meets Aguero's gaze anyway, resolute through some hardship.

Not even you can break me, those eyes say and Aguero wonders what he'd be like if he wasn't Rapunzel in a tower.

flowers tied into her hair, a hand tugging her into a tunnel and closing it behind her, the awful sounds of screaming and the apologies so clear-

Aguero decides not to think about it. "Good to meet you. Where's the prince?"

"Prince Elliot has not arrived." His voice returns to something wooden, and hopeless.

"Of course he hasn't." Alexi scoffs. She doesn't roll her eyes and if you weren't paying attention, you wouldn't have noticed her voice changing at all. Viole seems to notice regardless, and steps back. Smart. "A prince lets others wait on him, of course. Their presence is necessary for the sake of an ego." She sighs. "Truly, what we learn from our parents."

"Your father must have taught you your mouth."

The prince rounds the corner as he speaks. She's good at keeping her voice low, Aguero thinks. She'd sound deep to anyone who hadn't seen the techinique before.

Alexi is, however, unimpressed and uncowed, even as Viole silently takes another step back. "He taught me a lot of things, but speech does not come easy to him. He and the king prefer grunts and squeaking springs, you understand."

Even with the iron clad political armor of a flat, human mask, the prince is not used to someone who does not care for titles nor propriety, like Alexi, and actually freezes in place. His nostrils flare and he takes a step back, staring at her like she was growing flowers from her neck.

"Unfortunately for you," Alexi continues, eyes as cold as stone. "I won't use that mouth on you. I'm sure you're impatient for my brother to grow up, but you have hands. Make use of them, since your legs are in need of further exercise. Timeliness is a good measure of a good king. One hopes you'd be taught properly."

Aguero struggles to keep a straight face. He doesn't think the original villainess said all of these lines, but considering how crass and rude she was initially in flashbacks and in the school itself, it would not surprise him.

One hopes you'd be taught properly by your lowborn mother.

No, he does remember her saying that line.

His sister must have been added here to make sure those relationship points with the prince are impossible to gain. It'd make sense, seeing as they needed to go on a route, and therefore the villainess needed to be hated.

Aguero being a bystander to his sister's vritrol, refusing to condemn it would be insulting to love interests as proud as the ones in Demon's Sun.

So when Elliot turns to him, forest-green eyes burning and opening his mouth to speak, Aguero steps forward and waves off his sister. "Thanks for worrying, but i'm fine. I'll take him out for a walk to the west side. Viole, will you chaperone?"

Viole blinks at being addressed and looks silently towards the tower. Then he looks at Elliot. Elliot looks away from him, the way the horns glint in the sun.

"I am not interested in such matters."

You are if they're blond. Aguero shrugs. "I'm not either but we're both here and we have to interact to make the old folks happy, so we may as well."

Elliot hesitates. Then he nods. "Let's go then." He turns sharply on his heel and goes back the way he came.

Aguero tries hard not to roll his eyes. he remembers being a teenager. He has to remember being that stupid. He was definitely that stupid.

The king's orders were not to interfere with them and their needs. If they defiled the gardens Viole made, he would just fix it later. If they did nothing, that was well. He just had to watch them. If they made it to the academy together, everything would unfold.

Somehow.

He'd promised that if Viole did so, he could see his mother for more than a few moments.

it's a reward for mother, not for Viole, because -

There's a cry. Too distant for human ears, but Viole hears it, her screaming rage, her howling desperation.

Her want.

The magic of the barrier thrums louder.

Viole looks down and away.

The Prism Tower is dark inside. But you don't need sight to know what people want here.

There's a mrrow beside him. Viole doesn't look away, but he kneels down and lets the kitten climb onto his shoulder. "March, stay close this time. I can't protect you."

March rolls her yellow eyes and curls back up into his hood. She taps him with her paw. If cats were meant to be sapient, Viole would almost interpret it as a scolding. But Viole didn't get his hopes up. It wasn't like she was strong enough to protect him. It was better for her not to get hurt, or be someone who could be for him.

He goes back to observing. Elliot Jahad, a former Lo Po Bia child. Being given the rare opportunity to procreate under Jahad's name, a right even forbidden to the princesses, at the cost of a long-term happiness. He was stern and devoted to duty, an animal tamer who did not get to have much enjoyment from anything. He'd need an earnest hand, Jahad had said in his ear.

Khun Aguero Agnis did not seem to be such. He seemed distracted from him. The reports said he was a water mage with a devotion towards an ambition grander than a kingdom, a need to be loved, and something important and perfect he could hold in his hands.

Right now …

Will you make a contract with me?

He walks a more than respectful distance from Elliot, examining the plants and murmuring their names.

"There's poisonous plants here," he remarks, pointing at the purple flowers. They bleed blue to the edges, which was why he'd started growing them. Human poisons don't affect him, even with his father's blood.

"It was such a disappointment," Jahad said as he pulled the knife from his own arm. It had been like through a tv screen-

What?

Viole's head throbs with familiar pain. He, what's a TV screen, what is-

Blue-purple eyes meet his own, a hand holds his. "Hey, are you all right?"

Viole croaks and those eyes are oddly nostalgic, from a place with a cash register and a -

"Leave him," he hears underwater. "He's a demon. He's faking it."

I'm not, he wants to say, but bubbles get in his throat.

Cool hands rest on his face, water flooding away from his throat. Viole coughs, ragged and wet. He's ruining it, he mustn't. He needs to-

The first voice murmurs in his ears, a soothing chilling sensation that brings the meowing of March, the chirping of birds and the hum of magic back into focus.

Khun Aguero Agnis stares at him for a moment more. "There you are," he says, concern fading into relieved amusement. "Thought we'd lost you for a second there."

"I, my apologies, I get headaches, sometimes." Viole pulls himself to his feet as March meows, pawing at his neck.

There's a scoff a few steps away. "You are a guardian of the Prism Tower. Pain is not permitted for you."

Viole lifts his head and squints through the pain, through the curtain of his bangs. "I am human enough to feel pain."

Elliot steps forward. "You should let him go, Aguero. You're close enough for him to use ambient magic. If you're corrupted by it, the marriage is null and void."

Aguero twitches. Then he lets out a breath. "You know, you talk a lot about things I don't think you understand." He lets Viole go, and Viole only manages to stay upright.

"A ruler," Aguero declares. "Is nothing without all of his people on his mind. All that could be, are and have been. It doesn't matter how smart you are, how many people you fuck, or how strong you are. The people permit you on the throne. Every single one of them matters."

Every sentence he moves closer. He glares into Elliot's eyes, who glares back, but doesn't speak.

"Viole here is one of your people to look after. It doesn't matter if he's a human or a demon or a slug. If you cannot take care of who lives in your territory, what is the point of you?"

Elliot punches him.

Aguero barely winces, but pulls back his fist and hits back. It's quick, brutal and he ducks down to do it again.

Nails lengthen to claws, a low growl bursts from Elliot's throat and Viole jumps between them, pulling them apart with shaking hands and glowing palms.

"That's enough." His voice is hoarse. He hadn't screamed, had he? IF the king heard that … "This is, it isn't the right way to act."

They are arranged to be married. There's no need for love, but there is even less need for animosity. They are to work together against everyone.

Sure, we disagreed sometimes, and we're very different, but we wouldn't hurt so much if we didn't care.

His mother's voice over her favorite tea cup, chipped from hitting a countertop. His father laughing, singing warmly in his ear as they play game after game. They team up on him, their clever strategist.

"You should be, you must be -" More. Better.

That's all he gets out before pain comes in starbursts up and down his back, eyes rolling back into his skull as it radiates from his shoulder.

March bites his ear. He doesn't feel the pain. In fact, when the darkness welcomes him, he's glad not to feel anything at all.

His body's reflexes keep Aguero from falling flat on his ass when Viole hits the ground like a rock, but barely. He rushes over, ignoring the blood dripping from his nose and the bruise on his cheek. The growling faded at once, Elliot letting out an embarrassed cough. Aguero ignores them, kneeling down and scooping Viole up from the ground. He recalls that the villainess' family was often accused of using strength magic to cheat on tests even though the head of house was simply powerful in many ways.

At home, his dad was accused of doping to stay in the football team. Unfounded and the person who made the accusation suffered for it, but it was unfortunately not true. The old man was just a strong piece of shit, with a keen mind.

Maybe that had come with him from home too.

God he misses going to the gym. He has to run laps around the gardens every day just to get something out of his system. He can't imagine how Novick stays buff all day in this place full of carriages and magic.

Still, at least it's easy enough to lift a twig like Viole. The cat meows from his hood, maybe a few months old and fluffy enough, but also so imperious looking it was nothing less than a kitten.

"Do you know where his rooms are?" he asks the kitten, refusing to look at Elliot's face, lest he go and punch him in the face again. The kitten hops from the hood and trots in the opposite direction.

Good, an excuse.

"Good afternoon, Your Majesty," he says, with no inflection whatsoever, before walking away. Viole doesn't stir at all, no matter how awkwardly Aguero awlks.

The Prism Tower looms overhead as he approaches the door, large stone and coldness. The doors slide open at a slight heat emanating from Viole's body. There's a faint golden light.

Viole shudders, but doesn't open his eyes.

"Are you awake?" he asks. There's not much to see, prismatic torches lighting up dark walls. gold spiderwebs - veins? - flicker with light alongside the torches. There's a single room to the right of the stairs, locked and flickering red.

"Yesss," Viole slurs. "Don', don't go in there…"

Well, now Aguero wants to on principle. "You hit your head, don't move." He can always look later.

"'ll heal…"

That's the wrong answer. It's something Khun had figured out around the age of six. When people point out your pain, you're supposed to acknowledge it and say it hurts and ask for help. He was always bad at the last part.

Aguero doesn't argue, merely looks at the kitten, who sits on one of the steps. The second he has both feet on the first step, the stairs shift like an escalator, hauling them up. Viole doesn't move. His eyes barely open, gold and flickering purple. "Con… tract…"

"Worry about that later." Aguero keeps his tone clipped, curt. This place makes everything off-kilter. The water in the air isn't cool enough, the heat isn't touching the right places. He thinks, it's like being bent into awkward angles for eternity.

The stairs stop and a door slides open. It's beautiful painted wood and silver metal, hiding an absolute disaster of a room.

The bed frame was cracked and splinters littered a stone floor. There must have once been a nice rug here, but all that remained was torn fabric, dry, but dirty sheets on the bed, pillows strewn, the windows cracked-

The only thing remotely in good condition was the bookshelf.

"Are you sure this is yours?"

Viole shrugs. It looks physically painful for him to do it. "All the same."

Right. Well then. "I've changed my mind. You're not staying here."

The kitten meows what he thinks is approval as Aguero turns and without waiting for the spell on the stairs, thunders back down them and towards the carriage.

Chapter Text

To Alexi's credit, she doesn't strangle him when he drops Viole where he'd been sitting and sits next to her. She looks amused but she doesn't kill him.

"Kidnapping a royal hostage isn't going to do wonders on your blossoming romance," she remarks.

"As if I care." He does care, a fair amount. There's no way this will stay on a proper route if he is actively taking a hostage to look after.

You don't know the villainess' full backstory, his contradictory head points out. This could be part of it. You could be being played like a fiddle.

It sure would make his life easier.

Aguero sits back, looks up at the ceiling. "What will happen if the marriage is annulled?"

"Dad will find another kid, one with less of a spine, or snap theirs. Jahad will get the contract rewritten."

"Mm." Aguero can imagine those exist. At home, his father went for anyone in his age group that moved. He'd only started going for younger about two years ago. Still disgusting. At least he was mostly failing at it.

"Your ice and water magic are pretty rare, so marrying you will be a boon for everyone. They'll think they can break you or find someone who will give in enough."

Aguero wants to roll his eyes but doesn't. "What, me knocking up seven different families is off the table?" Alexi pinches him and it actually hurts. "Noona."

"Don't be daft," she says, voice soft. Her eyes flicker to the unconscious Viole, who should be awake by now. "We don't need another of our father in the world."

The fact that his father went from political marriage to mistress shacking up in a handful of years was probably worse by noble standards, but no one had stoned either of them to death yet.

"At this point, I think he'd welcome the idea."

Alexi flicks him on the forehead this time.

At his yelp of pain, Viole stirs. His skin is pallid and it doesn't get better when he opens his eyes. "Where?"

"Looks like you needed that nap," Aguero says as the kitten meows, promptly kneading on their human's chest. "You're in our family's carriage."

Viole's voice cracks a moment as he coughs. "Why-"

"I wouldn't let a dog sleep on your bed," Aguero says flatly before Viole can argue. "The king will get over it. I have spare sheets. You'll stay the night and bring them back with you." Aguero pauses. "Or maybe you can just stay with me. It's under the thumb of the king anyway."

It doesn't mean anything to just change his sheets, to clean up the home and break him out for a night. It's not enough to patch him up and send him back.

Viole lets out a sharp intake of breath. Then he lets it out with a shudder. The kitten climbs a little closer, butting its head against his cheek until he settles down.

"He will … be angry," Viole finally rasps.

"Father will distract him." He will, but only because it's funny. Not because he gives a shit about any of them. Another universal constant.

Viole makes a face, but slowly sags back into the cushions. They're softer than anything Aguero has sat on in his life so Aguero cannot blame him for that. "Mother is…"

Still stabbed and sealed in a room. "She will understand. She's your mother."

Granted, Aguero's mother had taken him hinting he liked men with a "are you sure? most men are terrible." and made him laugh so hard he choked.

She was an interesting kind of supportive.

"Takes one to know one," he'd replied and she'd also laughed.

Viole's mouth twists and he closes his eyes. "I'm the only one who can protect her."

"Not like this," Aguero argues and for a moment, he can see a girl, brilliant as the moon, her sharp teeth bared and eyes aglow with light as she leans forward into the face of a young horned man.

"Don't roll over and die," she says and Aguero says with her because he knows, he's sure of the fate that awaits this NPC if he lets it be. "You'll do her no good dead."

Viole swallows and closes his eyes.

When his breathing slows, Aguero leans back. "Demon whisperer," Alexi muses from next to him.

A dead man walking is what he is.

In retrospect, maybe a little wonder about the grandness of their home was in order.

Aguero knew through game data that the Moonlight Queen had a smaller residence by rich noble standards. A handful of servants, most of which were focused on the ill youngest instead of the rest of the children. Having Novick around was a godsend in comparison.

Still. To Viole this must look like this world's equivalent of a five star hotel. He stares at the white and blue tiles on the floor, gingerly stepping on each like they're explode and stab in the eyes. That wouldn't surprise him. If he was in a magic tower all the damn time, he too would be afraid it would explode if he pressed the wrong button. Or book.

"This way," Aguero says, if only to avoid him tripping and smearing blood on the floor and absolutely having a good reason to panic over it. Viole trails after him.

Alexi brings up the rear, murmuring to Novick as she did. He slips away with that odd, eerie grace a man of his bulk can only possess from practice.

Aguero leads him up the stairs. Viole keeps up, looking afraid to hold the railing until Aguero offers to carry him. Then he practically sprints.

Heh. It was a little cute.

Aguero almost breaks his own fucking nose for that thought. That was the point in these games but the guy dressed almost like a nun.

Still, he manages to lead Viole to his room without losing his mind and into the bathroom. He runs the bath while Viole sits nervously on a cushion.

"Come here," he calls.

Viole does. The kitten doesn't. Smart cat. The bath steams before their eyes. Viole hesitates, clutching his robe tight around him.

Aguero thinks about burning it. "Go on," he says. "I'll cover my eyes if I have to, but until the doctor gets here you may as well clean up."

He watches Viole stiffen at the idea of a doctor, but he's ever obedient. Too obedient. Aguero isn't fond of sheep but he won't question it now, not when Viole unties the robe in a single motion and lets it fall to the floor.

Well. At least he had no shame.

Not that most teenagers did but this was a bit much. Viole's robe promptly floats, shaking itself clean and glowing softly with magic.

Turned out, it wasn't brown and filthy at all, instead a soft black lined with purple hems that when put down, cleaned and folded itself for later. Guess that means he can't burn it.

Viole continues to strip, soon down to his underwear. Again, Aguero doesn't give it much thought, beyond this is definitely a porn game, if even in the pre-canon he doesn't have a problem changing in front of a girl.

Then he sees the scars.

Those aren't the scars of falling from a tree, or little accidents with scissors or knives. Those aren't the marks of someone who just was clumsy.

The crisscrossed marks on Viole's back were too deliberate, the faded discoloration at his wrists, a jagged cut down both legs.

Aguero draws breath.

Khun Eduan did not bother to beat his children or wives in the real world. He believed that was a sign of weakness, that someone couldn't control themselves enough was their failure, not the victims. His violence was the epitome of carelessness, showing your worth through intention and give and take. Neglect was never enough to prove to the courts, as he was rich enough to buy them all off.

It was different here, but the Moonlight Queen's memories of Khun Eduan are of a lack of him barring his cold eyes watching her magic grow and grow without pause and no pride in it.

The most he did was train someone harshly.

That said, there were others who knew violence. There was Hoh from his first class on introduction to business law, who'd flinched a little too hard at a law textbook hitting a desk at study group. There was the aggressive response from Serena when someone had teased Isu a little too close.

Aguero wasn't an expert to know.

Viole glances at him and Aguero silently gestures to the bath. Viole looks at it, thoughtfully. Then he brushes the suds with his hand. He climbs in after a moment, eyes wide with nostalgia and wonder. There was obviously a bathroom in the Prism Tower, no one would be clean there and he'd have been much more confused. But still, Viole looked disgustingly in shock that he was allowed to be in this one.

That was fair. Aguero also thought the same about himself.

Then he lets out a soft little sigh. It was clearly not intentional, but considering Viole was almost entirely submerged in the tub, it was probably a good thing. His horns were poking out of the water, cute jagged stripes against the color white.

"Do you need help using anything?" Once Viole was done Aguero intended to scrub himself raw to distract himself from the implications in this fucked up game.

Viole's mouth twitches as he pops back up. He looks very uncomfortable now that he's remembered where he was. "I, well, what is for my hair?"

Oh god in the modern world he'd use 2-in-1 shampoo, Aguero thinks with a twinge of sympathy. Worst month of his life when he started independent living.

Aguero goes to help, ignoring the distasteful, betraying thoughts.

Once he's out of the bath and in clothes that actually fit (the other rags had been too big and falling off), Viole seems more agreeable to pretty much anything. Or had so little idea of how to get back that going along with it all was a safer path. His cloak remains a constant, and it's clean so who cared, really.

He doesn't eat much, but at Aguero's blunt curiosity, he answers many questions.

He was a hostage, of course, but it was a long-standing plan to show demons could be harmless when brought into the public eye. That once he stepped out of the Prism Tower, he would just be another person in a crowd, and not a prisoner of war.

Aguero had had to not roll his eyes. Yeah fucking right.

Demonfolk don't have genders, which he'd known, but they had structures and decisions. The heir to the Starless Sky, which was meant to define the path moving forward, was always one of three paths: hunter, who chased prey and fought for the land, gatherer, who sought resources and shored up the territory, and caretaker, who raised the young and taught future generations. There were others, but most demons referred to each other by their role.

And, and the most important thing: only caretakers could create contracts wholesale and sign them into being. The deals with other demons were just that, deals. They could be canceled in ways that didn't grab at your soul. But this wasn't that.

"Are you sure you should have told me that?" Aguero had asked, tearing apart of slice of pear with his fingers.

Viole had looked at him blankly and said, "Are there any demons around you you could use to take advantage of it?"

Point but still. Too trusting. No wonder the protagonist got to him, in the end.

Viole was a caretaker, and the Demon Queen was a hunter. Half-demons weren't out of the question, but they were despised by humans. They often renounced their humanity entirely. They had never been royalty before, let alone the defined Star.

Viole had answered these questions without touching his plate until Aguero nudged it at him. Which was good, because it gave Aguero a few moments to mentally panic.

None of this was hinted at in the game, at least the routes that Aguero had played. And the chat had mentioned very little of it aside from the lack of gender and spoiling the name of the territory that the demons preferred to stay in. It's not surprising, it was supposed to be about human issues, and human problems. They wouldn't have bothered to cram all of these plot points in one last route.

Unless they sucked. Which the game devs did, but that was besides the point.

Fuck the writers of Demon's Sun, actually. They had to know what they were doing like this.

March the kitten mrrows, stealing a piece of meat.

"So, in effect, you're a hostage," Aguero muses, as if any of this is new or not obvious. As if a little rich kid bastard with a serial cheater and a political hostage or a parent understands anything about a hostage child being puppeteered and responsible for their parents' suffering even if it wasn't theirs to bear. "Writing contracts for the king to let him do his puppeteering, his toy."

Viole flinches at the last world, just a little. "Yes."

"You're amazing," Aguero says after a long moment. "I'd kill him for that. I'd kill every human who came near me for that. But you haven't. Have you?"

Viole's eyes behind his bangs widen. They flicker pink and then back to gold. Then he shakes his head no. "You didn't kidnap me," he says. He's eaten most of his plate, minus the raw tomatoes. It's the raw things, Aguero notices. Anything raw was piled up on one side.

"I mean, technically I did."

Viole almost smiles. Almost. Something in Aguero wonders what it would look like. "You haven't hurt me. It's fine. If I spent energy hating everyone around me, I would have nothing else."

"You're still looking your abuser in the face every day and not crushing his skull between your hands." And Aguero bets that he could. The heir was only half-human. There was enough demon in there to shatter a human body. "That's a mercy I'm not sure he deserves."

Viole blinks once, then twice. Aguero says nothing for a long while. "Aren't you doing the same?"

"How so?" His father, sure, but he wasn't alone in that. His sister had gotten in between him, his mother was near non-existent (he hadn't seen the mysterious little sibling once since he'd come into this world).

Viole looks at him. "Your fiancee is unkind."

My fiancee is a teenager stuck in the closet, Aguero thinks but doesn't say. It's not the same, but it, if those memories are reliable, can become that way. A never ending stream of failures, abandoned for a shinier, pure looking model. "The country and I benefit with him alive."

"Is that why you want a contract with me?"

Sharp, naive, but interested. He wonders how long Viole has thought about that.

"Well," Aguero drawls. "That's a start. But mostly, you interest me quite a bit." At the uncomprehending stare, Aguero laughs outright. "Most people wouldn't say what you did just now either."

"I am, I don't think." Viole stutters. "I am saying what I think. Is it really so unusual?"

The only person who understood me. You failed him.

Aguero pushes back the memories of that girl, that dead girl now, and says, "Yes. And I like it. I like that you choose to be honest with me, even with all evidence that says you shouldn't, and that you wanted me to learn for no reason other than I asked. You put your trust in me."

Viole says nothing, only reacting to March's insistent nudges to his cheeks.

"Do you want to be a caretaker?" Aguero asks, mercifully changing the subject.

Viole tilts his head. The roles of demons shouldn't matter in a game where when you saw demons at all, you killed them. What was the protagonist's role then? LIterally, likely until her final route, most of the game was killing demons, battling classmates and such, but again, mostly killing demons.

Unless, the sun for the demons wasn't the protagonist at all.

"Demons choose for life," Viole says after a while. "It's not a matter of want so much as a matter of knowledge and if it's needed."

"Do you want to?" Aguero repeats.

Viole clicks his tongue and looks away.

No. Or not like this.

"I can work with that," he says. "Because if you want to, but different, and I want things to be different, why not work together for that to happen?"

Viole's gaze snaps back to him. "Is that for-"

"No," Aguero interrupts. "It's for us. Just for us."

His heart thumps but Aguero makes their eyes meet. Demons used eye contact for their greatest magics, caretakers for their most thorough contracts. Aguero doesn't fear Viole doing the same. He's bound to fix a rogue game world. There's nothing for him to fear.

"As friends?" Viole finally asks as a whisper.

Aguero's mouth cracks into a grin, all crooked and strong. "Yeah, as friends."

Viole's hand clasps his own a few moments later.

Magic thrums, soft and powerful and promising.

Aguero expects Eduan to come around, to put his nosy, gossip fueled ears (another thing they had in common, and it always was useful at university) into another story. But he doesn't.

Instead, it's this world's version of his mother.

Mom was only pregnant twice. Taking in Kiseia counted as enough she'd joked at the time. Kiseia had loved and appreciated the joke, as Auntie Anastasia had died in a horrific way she didn't deserve. He knows that morally but sometimes even in modern life, Aguero would forget, and pray that it'd hurt the whole way and that she'd been frightened.

He'd never said it aloud, but sometimes Khun thought his mother knew.

This mother looks similar. Her eyes are more wan, the wrinkles less but laugh lines more. She looks younger. Well, of course she would. Her oldest was seventeen. At home, his mother had streaks of grey and nice hoops. All of her was bare.

Gabriel looks like a doll in comparison. Small, clutching tight to her legs because it was too much energy to walk on his own still, purple hair waxen. His blue eyes were too round, almost bulbous. He was too thin.

Someone easy for the protagonist to bully to obedience.

Viole hops to his feet, March twining around his ankles. Aguero moves slower and goes to offer his arm to them both. "Mother," he says, because he is a good son and there is nothing to betray here. "Little brother. Sit, we have extra."

Mother smiles. This world has mimicked her smile down to the slight unevenness of her teeth. It hurts to see it. "I figured your quarters were more interesting than the walls."

Gabriel says nothing. One hand frees itself to hobble Aguero, but that's fine. Ran did similar when trying to escape his older sister. They awkwardly make their way over to the other chairs. Just as Aguero makes to lift Gabriel up, Viole steps closer.

"May I?" he asks, not Aguero, but Gabriel. His eyes flick to mother but it's not the same.

"Oh, that's-" Mother starts but Gabriel pulls his hands away. Trembling on skinny legs, he silently offers his arms. Viole scoops him up at once. Gabriel shakes, wheezing for breath and then-

The hair rises on the back of Aguero's neck. Purple magic bleeds prismatic, washing over Viole and Gabriel both. Gabriel sucks in a breath, lips puckering, lungs unprepared for the wheeze about to rack them and then-

Mother is half out of her seat when the little boy relaxes. Color returns to his pale face. He looks down, tired but somehow the boneless reaction doesn't look painful. It looks relieving.

"What did you do?" mother demands. A child is a bargaining chip. A child is a beloved extension. A child is a child.

Viole blinks. "He has too much mana." His expression is oddly pinched. "With no way to let it out. I took some away. Too much life force will kill you." He looks down. "You were doing the right thing but it was not enough. Bleeding takes away some. Using takes the most."

Aguero's expression freezes. "It doesn't hurt you to do that."

"I'm still human," Viole reminds him. "It can't hurt me."

Not on its own. Human forged weapons still could. The final boss situation would see to that. He'd never figured out why.

"Are you okay, Gabe?" Aguero offers. The Moonlight Queen settles in his soul.

There was one person she doted on unabashedly, no matter how strained their relationship was, and that was her little brother. Everything she did, she did for him and the distant back of her father. Even die. There's a CG of them Aguero had unlocked by accident, her at his crib, him horrified at her corpse, them smiling in a garden so much like the one outside.

Gabriel nods slowly. "Feels better. Thanks." His voice is a weak croak.

Slowly, mother relaxes back into her chair. She looks like she might cry, which is much too vulnerable for her. He nudges the tissues towards her.

"It's not permanent," Viole admits. "I can do it sometimes, but he needs to use it. The mana. Or it'll build up."

"How?" The little boy's voice is a croak. He looks at Viole with a desperate face, one that hurts. "How? I hate this! I hate it!"

He never dies in the main game, but he isn't cured by the time of it either. He's stuck in bed, watching his sister play with herbs and get her heart broken, forced to be a pawn while his family's heads roll, knowing he's alive out of pity and political bargaining.

It's so much like Viole, it must twinge something.

Aguero keeps his mouth shut. The offer sits on his tongue, the chain to bind them together is right there.

His door swings open.

There's no knock, but Novick is trying to sound contrite and pissed off at the same time.

The king walks in.

He's a head taller than Novick and therefore two heads taller than everyone else, at least. He looms, a golden sun in the sky.

How the Sunlight Saint wasn't revealed sooner is beyond him. Seeing him in the flesh and by memory alone they are so alike it's uncanny. And Khun Eduan was behind him so that was saying something.

"Viole." His voice has the certainty of a god. Aguero promises himself that he will look up the history books, the biographies, everything if he survives this. "YOur playdate has come to an end. Come with me now. Your mother is ailing."

Viole's breath hitches, his grip tightens on Gabriel. But he doesn't move. He looks too afraid to. Or perhaps it's anger, to hear human customs thrown so brazenly in the face of one who isn't.

"Your Majesty," Aguero starts because he's so stupid. "He collapsed repeatedly today. We could bring him back tomorrow as a peace offering, as your son and I had a disagreement. It would be best of me to make it right."

The king looks at him and in seconds there's a pressure on his head, heat and sun and burning fire, but-

Aguero doesn't let his knees buckle. He is thirteen years old and more beneficial alive. He is thirteen and it is not the first time an older man has looked at him with nothing at all.

This is nothing, only bullshit from a coward who can't let go.

"You are admirable for your forthrightness," the king says and Aguero almost laughs. "But this has never concerned you, son of Eduan. You must learn restraint."

You first. It sticks in his throat, but it seems like the king hears it anyway.

"Mother …" Viole starts. In the interim, he's gotten to his feet. He puts Gabriel in his chair. The poor kid looks like he might faint. "Mother won't get better," he says. "Not as long as you keep the chains on her. She will never get better, but she will never get worse. There's nothing I can do for her. I can help them. It is in my nature. It is what I am."

"I cannot unbind your mother," the king begins. "There are many who would die."

"Then I cannot make her better." Viole has gone eerily still. "I am a caretaker. I am speaking of my nature and of the duty I must uphold to our sky that holds us all."

The king steps forward and Aguero tenses. The kitten leaps between them. The man could knock Viole into a wall and start a war. There were few demons out of the territory, but they chased mana. Someone would know. The Prism Tower was the only way they couldn't know.

"Jay, relax."

Eduan's drawl was amused and definitely not sober. "He's not going too far and he ain' wrong. Arly might be more peaceful if you let him outside some."

The king turns to glare at Aguero's father and the man laughs. "Come on. Let it lie. If you'd really wanted to stop it, you would have. Right, Aguero?"

"I assumed so." It's so weird for his father to know his name, never mind use it in a sentence. "You could have just sent guards or stopped us from leaving."

There are so many eyes on him. It makes him pause but the idea takes root. "I'll make a contract with him," he says and Viole's eyes flash. "Under your approval, for a certain span of time."

The king would rely on Viole's ability to lie and assume that he would by command and ruin all benefits and exploit all loopholes.

King Jahad turns to Viole. "Do you agree?"

Viole nods once.

He will pay for this defiance, Aguero knows. But not for much longer.

Not if Aguero had anything to say about it.

"Then it's decided, Jay." Eduan clapped the king on the shoulder, oblivious to the shifting of spears of his guard. "C'mon, have that drink now? You owe me one."

"You are incorrigible." But the king casts them all a look and turns away. "Very well."

"Excellent!"

And they're gone in moments, like nothing happened. Silence reigns until Novick kindly reaffixes the door.

Then, inexplicably, Viole starts laughing.

Perhaps it's the relief, but Aguero joins him.

Chapter Text

Time passes.

Viole visits regularly. All of Aguero's siblings (well, the ones fully related to him and Maria occasionally) join in on the magic healing sessions and following lessons. They still need mediums, but it's better than nothing.

The one unwelcome arrival is of Prince Elliot, who stands stiff and awkward for weeks. He refuses to meet Aguero's eyes, and stays as far away as he can from Viole without being weird.

Too bad, you little shit.

The effect of his haughty demeanor is ruined by the way his wolf pup Fenryl never leaves Viole's side if he can help it. Viole, thankfully, accepts his new furry weight with grace. If he falls asleep with the wolf a few times, no one comments. Gabriel does the same thing.

The prince becomes less hostile over time. Not by much, he is still hiding an incredible secret that will make a mockery of the Khun family if it ever comes out, but he's more polite and not reflexively asked why a demon was saying shit that he, a prince, knew nothing about.

It's six months of this when Elliot arrives with a new guard, a weed of a mercenary, with a few swords at his hip and a quiet stiffness to his stance.

Khun does his best not to cringe. He knows who that is. The mercenary route was one of the more lore-heavy ones, and increasingly annoying to pick the right dialogue choices for. He was stubbornly loyal and rigid on what things were, what they could and should be.

He had only broken the rules to lay with the Sunlight Saint and the prince became king and forgave him.

The thought makes him want to hurl.

Still. He says nothing right now, stays focused the way Aguero saw people do during exam season or that one time in football finals where the captain was so serious he almost burst a blood vessel.

That had been pretty funny.

This time, Viole tells them to envision magic in their hands.

"It's not normal to do that," the prince had protested at once. "It would set our blood on fire."

"Only because you're not used to it," Viole says. "And it burns you anyway. It burns everyone, that's why you must be good at channeling it through an item and out."

"I don't have that issue," Aguero offers. No, once he'd spent more than a few minutes a day practicing he could water plants without an item, create slick black ice with ease even in the heat, and even fill pitchers across the room. He'd started practicing on the bathtub.

Elliot scowls at him.

Viole almost smiles. He gets closer to it here than when he's at the Prism Tower, which makes awful sense. After all, he's safer here. But he still seems tired, and possibly a little confused.

In fairness, it's probably because every time Maria was there, she glomped him hard and nearly buried his face into her chest. One time she succeeded and Elliot had to clear his throat loudly.

Maria wasn't ashamed either.

Alexi tried tying her up but … that made her worse.

This game was fucking weird.

Viole had just kind of stared at her before brushing his hair back down and turning away.

It had taken all of Aguero's self control not to laugh.

This lesson goes more peacefully at least, and they settle on for tea. Gabriel is actually able to hold a teacup without help and even pour his own without shaking, a far cry from six months ago. He still only listens.

"You're starting the academy next year " Alexi says to the prince.

He shifts and then nods. He's not so much gotten used to being treated with no formal respect as he has accepted that Alexi was informal with everyone. "Yes. They'd like to fast track me to student council."

He is not looking forward to that. "Don't find a cute girl while I'm gone," he says.

Elliot snorts over the swordsman's glare. At least he's stopped staring at Viole. "I don't believe anyone else would be as much of a burr in my side as you are."

Alexi rolls her eyes and Aguero snorts. Times like this, he almost believes Elliot might be fond of him.

Magic is also easier.

It should get easier to bear, but Aguero misses home the longer it goes on. He remembers his mother's face with wonder from magic, not cheering over his grades. He struggles to think of his sister's wedding, He almost misses Isu's tracksuit.

But, there is Viole.

It's easier when the school age group are gone. He's fourteen going on twenty-three and Viole is more relaxed when it's just them and Gabriel. Sometimes the old man watched. Sometimes he came closer.

Once he was there before Aguero and speaking to Viole with something fond.

Viole refused to tell him what he said.

Aguero has not brought up the contract.

Soon, he promises himself.

But over a year passes again, and Aguero … doesn't.

He's been busy, of course. He'd found the Moonlight Queen's journal and-

When you played Demon's Sun, you could name the Sunlight Saint and Moonlight Queen, for extra self-insert goodness. Watch your greatest rival get wrecked in multiple ways! For the catharsis.

But there were default names. Aguero had never seen hers, as he'd named her the request of a subscriber who paid enough.

But still, he makes a messy plaque for her now and dives in.

No one comments on it. She was known for reading anything she could get her hands on and writing it down too. It's as thorough as if he'd written it himself.

The entry before he awoke (he'd checked the calendar) reads, this world would be more bearable if I was a man. Then I could save them all. Including myself.

Thinking about it too long makes Aguero queasy, so naturally he turns it over like a rotisserie chicken.

"Aguero-ssi?"

Aguero blinks to see Viole's face close to his own. Not close enough to kiss, but close. He only doesn't scramble back from years of Ran doing the same thing.

"Sorry, did I doze off?" he says, trying to smirk instead of focus on how long Viole's eyelashes are.

It's just them right now. Gabe has another physician appointment and mother is there. Maria is with Elliot at school. They send letters.

Maria asks him to kiss Viole for him. Aguero doesn't. He misses the way Viole looks at him whenever he reads it out.

"A little," Viole admits. "You've been so busy. Would you like to rest?"

"That would be rude," Aguero protests. "You're still here. You're a guest."

"I don't mind." Viole's mouth twitches. "You can, erm, rest on my lap, if you want."

… That's a romance trope. that's a girl romance trope right? Or well, maybe not. To set your head in a partner's lap was at least romantic. Right?

"Are you sure?"

Viole nods. "Of course."

Demons are more tactile than humans. They relied on showing skin and touching in game, especially since they had better night vision than in the sunlight. It was why the final boss always had gloves on and a hood. That was their justification anyway.

And Viole wasn't as bony as he used to be. His thighs could be comfortable…

Okay, he was just tired or the game was fucking with him. There was no way he could enact a single gay fantasy here, not for real. Not with data.

No, not data. The game hadn't had real, visible scars and wounds.

Aguero leans back and lays down.

Immediately he's struck by the sky. At first glance, it's blue, clouds lazily floating by, the sun in the west. But the longer he looks, the more he sees the sparkle of mana in the air. It's usually only visible in game in the forests or the Prism Tower. He'd never seen it around the house until now.

Maybe it's following Viole, who is beloved by the sky itself.

Aguero glances at his face. He doesn't get a smile. Aguero thinks Viole ha forgotten how. But even with that blank, baffled little frown, Viole is still cute.

Aguero closes his eyes. Stupid puberty and stupid hormones and stupid fucking game. No wonder outside of his route you never saw the last boss' face. You'd cave in instantly.

He was nearly fifteen right now. This was not weird. It wasn't like he liked his fiancee in the first place. He was already going to commit infidelity, Aguero did not need to speedrun it and fuck up his only way home.

He focuses on his breathing, on the wind and the shifting of flowers.

It was … peaceful. Nice even.

He falls asleep.

When Aguero opens his eyes, he hears soft yips and a gentle hum. Fenryl, the demonic pup, right by his head. But… why? Elliot - Elaine, easier to think on his home territory - should be in class, at the academy. There wasn't a break, was there?

Aguero turns and there's Elliot. He's watching the two of them. One of Viole's hands is gently stroking Fenryl's fur. The other is playing with Aguero's hair, a quiet, fond expression on his face but unsmiling.

No one speaks. Then Viole's eyes alight on him and crinkle into something further. Something like happiness. Not a smile. Not joy. But it's there.

I want to see it, Aguero thinks, almost raising his hand. Then he turns his head to look at Elliot. "What brings you here?"

Elliot smirks. It's bitter, cold with distrust. "Apparently, father found one of his real children."

Aguero's blood runs cold. "Is that right," he says carefully. Viole's hand slows, now cradling the back of Aguero's head. It's probably unintentional but Aguero cannot bring himself to stop him.

Too soon. Wasn't it? The Moonlight Queen and the Sunlight Saint weren't supposed to cross paths until-

A memory, from a future that would never come-

"I think it's important to be friends."

His own voice, mouth twisted in a scoff. "What would you know of friends, commoner? All you do is take from people better than you. I refuse to be one of them."

Elliot leans forward. "Indeed it is." His voice is quiet. "Found her with some baron claiming she was his. Blond hair that shines in the sun, hazel eyes, and a flicker of red in the pupils. One of Father's children. Stolen."

Aguero glances at Viole, who only looks curious, not upset. Then he murmurs. "One less shackle on mother."

The long held reason for the war in the history was that the demons had stolen away Jahad's ability to bear children, and the potential spawn had been scattered across the continents. A cursed contract, still upheld between king of man and ruler of monsters, and unable to be broken.

In another life, there had been theories that the half-demon being so gentle was their child instead, but-

It wasn't true, much as the man wished for it. If so, there would be no scars, not wounds. Demons were forbidden to hurt their own. He'd have been eaten alive, king be damned.

Elliot's mouth thins. "How many does that leave?"

Viole only shakes his head. "His Majesty would know."

And it wouldn't matter, as Viole was the most vital chain of them all.

Aguero met Elliot's eyes as he searched for something. Discomfort, amusement distaste. There's only interest. Of course there would be. He - She - would take the saint for her own eventually.

These moments would pass and Aguero would go home. That's what he tells himself. Unless gods lie. Which was also possible too.

"How wonderful. You'll have a little sibling like me."

Elliot rolls his eyes. "She's close in age to you. Maybe you'll be friends."

Ariadne snorts and Aguero does his best not to do the same. "I have my best friend right here," he says, gesturing to Viole.

VIole jolts, but when Aguero looks over his expression is quiet again, almost blank. Fenryl licks his fingers impatiently, until he's given attention once more.

"Like demon, like demon," Elliot sighs instead of being offended. He clicks his tongue and Fenryl trots to his side.

In the final battle on the first route, Elliot is forced to slaughter his comrade wolf, who had grown by her side. The wolf had chosen the demon, in the end.

Aguero, impulsively, flicks water at the prince's head. He sputters, voice cracking and he thinks,

You can have her, saint.

Viole makes a chuffing noise. It's almost laughter.

You can't have him.

It's a silly idea, but one he likes anyway.

Further time passes. The mentioned daughter of the king falls into gossip and murmurs, but little more as she remains out of public life. Puberty hits them all in messy waves. It's almost a relief to see Viole less in a world where it's all too easy to find pornography with a half-sister who shoves you into her chest and tries introducing you to every girl around.

Thankfully, Maria has not been around much.

Alexi hears more gossip than he does, and encourages him to "get a reputation for going out hunting".

God he hopes she isn't encouraging him for forest sex. Urgh. Bugs in his hair. There's a reason he doesn't go camping.

Still, he does go hunting. Horseback riding sucks, but it does improve his water magic aim. Novick didn't bother. He races through the undergrowth, snapping deer necks with his bare hands and brawling with any small fry demons that came across.

Khun never mentions those to Viole. He hopes there's no audience watching Novick grunt and kill things. He's sure there are people who would be into it.

"Having fun?" he asks dryly. He's gotten down to gather more plants.

Novick snorts. "Never a dull day with you."

Now what was that supposed to mean?

"Happy birthday, by the way," his butler adds. "It'll pass while you're at the academy, so."

"Ugh. Don't remind me." The game was going to start soon. Elliot's letters had been lessening over the past few months. Of course, the rumors of the Sunlight Saint protagonist had grown in measure.

Aguero walked back to his horse and filled the bag with more herbs. He reached in and offered his horse a quick meal before climbing back on. "One more round to the village and then we'll head back."

"Aye boss."

Aguero splashes water on him as he nudged his ride onward. God he couldn't wait to get a bicycle when he got back. That would not nearly be murder on his thighs.

When they returned, Viole was there. He was also starting with Aguero this year, and Aguero had, without hesitation, gotten him supplies and a residence nearby. The old man had agreed, laughing.

Jahad? He hadn't reacted at all. He hadn't seemed to care, invested in the newfound daughter.

Which is for the best because the young man (person) who steps out of the carriage when he arrives, is dangerous to Aguero's heart.

Look, Aguero has a type. He knows he does. He figured it out in a post exam fugue where he'd accidentally admitted to thinking the guy at the school store was cute when he laughed at people's jokes. There was also the one time he was spit sober at the bar and one of his philosophy classmates started making out with him in the corner.

Nothing worse than handjobs in the toilets and the smell of whiskey in his mouth.

The point is Aguero knows: long lashes and nice legs, along with pretty eyes and a serious, sure stare get him in ways he thought he was completely uninterested in. And he usually is because Seoul is oversaturated with pretty people and impossible standards to reach.

Viole ticks those boxes. He ticks more, shoulders broad under his sleeveless shirt, warm hands that gently scoop up a stronger, livelier Gabriel upon impact. He steps off the carriage steps, skin darker from the sun, long hair tied in a bun as opposed to the once floor sweeping ponytail. That cloak remains, but the hood is down and gold-pink meets blue-silver-purple. There's something familiar there, an interest piqued by however *he* must look, helping Novick carry deer and hands covered in dirt. The ruin of an aristocrat.

Aguero tries not to be a religious man or pretend anything that belongs to him is not his. But he hopes this game world is responsible for the uncomfortable throbs in his groin and the fanciful nature in his mind over this clump of data.

Viole then smiles and Aguero prays even harder.

He's started smiling in the past few months. Small things, nervous things. He wonders what it looked like before, what his face looked like open and free, bright and cheerful.

Viole has a face suited for joy and happiness, for pleasure and warmth.

"You stink, hyung." Gabriel tells him. "You smell like trees."

"People like that smell fabulous to some," Aguero teases. "You'll understand when you're older."

Gabriel rolls his eyes. "I don't want to be like Maria-noona."

"You really don't want that," he agrees. "Hi Viole, make yourself at home. I'll be back shortly."

Viole blinks and then nods, placid again. "Take your time, Aguero-ssi."

Aguero fights the lamest lines from the game out of his throat and smirks. "See you in a bit, Viole."

Another name sits on his tongue for whatever reason but Aguero dismisses it and heads off for a bath. He misses showers so much.

Novick disappears to take care of the rest of the work. The nearby village was always grateful for the dried herbs and discussions of building a greenhouse. They'd grow to take care of themselves, and it didn't need his magic to reinforce it either.

They could not depend on a noble who was going to die, and his brother was better, he wasn't healthy enough to do it either. But he made a solid record.

By the time he's done, Aguero comes out into his rooms to Viole reading one of his books. It looks like the history of the war of demons and humans. Why on earth would he read that? He was a relic of it.

Aguero doesn't say so, however. He just sits beside him. "How was the school?"

Viole closes the book and sets it down. "There was a lot of staring," he says after a while.

He'd gone to get used to the area early, to make current students adjust to the existence of a demon (half-demon, but no one would think much of the human part) in their midst and to adjust. He was too polite for his own good, Aguero muses.

"You're new and interesting," he says with a smirk and a tug at his looser bits of hair. "Don't worry, i'll be with you soon and take all the attention away."

Viole looks at him earnestly and says, "I appreciate anything you can give me."

This smooth bastard. "I'm sure," Aguero deflects. "I do it because I want to."

And not because of the contract? Aguero's mind whispers cruelly. He ignores it. He needs to bring up. "Did you see the new girl? She's with us next year, right?"

"… I did." Viole blinks at him. "She seemed nice. She said she liked my horns."

"Cheap," Aguero teases instead of acknowledging the rumbling pain in his stomach. "Would that be all I need to get your attention?"

Viole still just keeps looking at him and says, "You've said much nicer things to me, Aguero-ssi."

This causes him to fall silent. "You know," he says after a long moment. "If you keep saying things like that, I'm going to think you're interested in me."

Viole doesn't answer. "Even if I was," he says. "You could not reciprocate, could you?"

Aguero snorts. "That's not an answer, and you know it." Before Viole can reply, he adds. "Was Elliot being touchy with her?"

Viole was also there to ensure the contract was followed or confirm who broke it.

"He was no more interested in her than anyone else. Maybe gentler when showing her around and leading her to the tutors, but that was all."

Not enough then. He'd have felt it if the contract ripped, but still.

"She was more interested in me," Viole adds, abruptly. "Like he was a given and she was nice enough, but I was a higher priority."

This wasn't how he remembered the opening of the game went, but then, there had to be some gaps and explanations for why the game started so slanted against the Moonlight Queen after all.

Unless…

No, that was silly. There was no reason to assume that the protagonist was also from his world. That was not a game thing. In fact, the entire thing was the romances were divine providences, chosen by the gods that adored humanity, and that they were meant to be. That was why the demonic contract broke with no death, or all of it fell on the Moonlight Queen.

Aguero leans over into Viole's eyes. "Do you think she's into you?" He could see it if she was.

Viole frowns. "Why would I want her?"

Aguero almost laughs. "You're a little oblivious, aren't you?"

That's for the best. Aguero won't get his hopes up. He knows what he's setting himself up for. He knows the many ways of ruin that will open up in his life. But it doesn't matter.

It can't matter.

"Don't worry about it. Tell me more about the school."

Viole complies.

That night, Gabriel sneaks into his rooms.

This has happened more in the past year or so. When Alexi had started going to school, he recalls, Gabriel was too ill to do it, and mother was still around. But as he's gotten better, mother's had to focus on running the house. So now, Gabriel is here. Taking comfort from a sibling who was wrong for this world, taking warmth from a dead man walking.

So far, Aguero was comfortable using almost anyone, but-

It must be Viole's influence, it must be the passage of time, so he doesn't. He tries not to think about it.

"I won't be gone that long," he says, trying to be comforting, trying to feel safe. "And I'll visit. You're not a weak kid anymore, Gabe. you don't need me around all the time."

Gabriel's fingers dig into his arm. Aguero remembers Ran, ungrateful ass that he was, clinging to him during fireworks.

He misses that little shit.

"What if I can't do magic anymore?" he mumbles, right in Aguero's shoulder. "What if I get sick again and you can't say goodbye?"

Ouch. He's sure he'll have nightmares about that tonight. "You will keep practicing," Aguero promises. "And mother will look after you. And if you get sick, Viole and I will come help you again. But you have to promise me you'll keep trying. Okay?"

Gabriel doesn't answer, and Aguero misses Ran like a hole in the head. But his grip loosens, and he closes his eyes.

When he dreams that night, Aguero dreams of Ariadne in a night sky dress, staring at an aurora that should not exist.

She calls the stars it cradles beautiful.

Then she coughs up blood and dies.

Aguero wakes up that morning to the sun rising, the birds chirping, and Novick opening his door.

Right. No pressure.

Chapter Text

Constellation Academy was built in a place close to the border between the sky and the earth, supposedly. It just meant the higher you went in the building, the closer you were to a naturally darkened sky.

Personally, Aguero assumes it's purely for the aesthetic and not for anything world building. Again, his opinion of Demon's Sun was absolutely horseshit.

Seriously, what was the point of the other routes if all roads led to demon child?

Not that he was complaining on taking that route for himself. Viole sits opposite of him in the carriage. He's looking out the window, quiet awe making his eyes sparkle. It's not like he's probably been far ever. Or maybe demons are born in caves and even this was exciting.

Though Aguero suspects the game would suck that hard at world building, he doubts it highly.

Aguero can't help but wonder who will take this away from him. For Aguero it will be Prince Elliot, who will hopefully be smart and send him to exile -

-little Gabriel screaming for his sister and mother as they're dragged to the gallows. Both women are silent. They had lost the war long ago.-

-as opposed to breaking the heart and soul of a sickly little boy who would have nothing in the world. And for Viole, it would be this whole game, this setting and world.

In a way, this probably includes him. The Moonlight Queen places him somewhere in her memories between cherished and loathed. He had never played the route to find why and the journal hadn't said anything.

Aguero sighs and Viole tilts his head to look at him. He waves him off. "There just have to be better ways to gain an education."

"Oh." Viole shifts a little in his seat. "You could leave me and go back."

"Absolutely not." Viole doesn't flinch at his tone, but honestly, he should. "And leave you alone with my fiancee and a school of people who think they know how demons work?" Not to mention the Sunlight Saint. "I'd be bored to tears."

"You'll be bored anyway," Viole offers. "Since you're so good at everything."

Only because I've mastered studying in university by barely studying at all and because I played just enough of this game to know it and hate it. "You've never had formal education. It's difficult, but you'll get used to it."

Viole scratches at his horns. It's a bad habit that Fenryl encouraged. "I will adjust to their words and sneers as well. People can be cruel."

Aguero isn't sure if it's good or not that Viole didn't call them humans. "They can be, but I won't abandon you to deal with them."

Finally, Viole smiles. It's pretty, shameless, and earnest. "Thank you, Aguero-ssi."

"Mm." If he thinks about how cute Viole looks like this, he will probably explode. Or say something in appropriate.

So he stays silent and lets the school grow closer.

Home is so close now. He really shouldn't care about anything else.

That's what Aguero reminds himself of as the high towers of the Academy sparkle in perpetual sunset, just low enough to see the stars start peeking into view.

And for that first night, it seems well. He sees no hint of blonde hair while he settles in. There are whispers, of course, as there usually are when new students arrive, even more so with Viole and Aguero arriving at the same time.

He knows how he looks, ice cold and untouchable. His uniform in multiple perfect shades of blue that haven't touched dirt. the handle of a knife is visible on his belt loop.

What he hadn't expected was the people looking at Viole. Most people show the very normal wariness and fear, but well, Aguero isn't going to pretend black isn't a good color on him. And in clothes that fit, it makes sense that he's so, well, it makes sense that people are interested in him.

Once again, porn game.

He is starting to understand why you needed to unlock "Final Boss without the hooded robe" skin though.

"You know you can't wear that in most of your classes, right," Aguero murmurs to him as they find his dorm area. It's not nearly as big as Aguero's probably will be, but once Aguero confirms it's not the same broom closet in the Prism Tower, he'll leave himself.

Viole nods. His mouth twists into a frown and Aguero suspects he'll wear it anyway, if only to be left alone.

Speaking of tropes, it never works. The more mysterious he is, the more people will be interested in him. Probably something about gap moe in there. He has no idea.

People are still whispering as they unlock the door. Someone says something about nepotism, which is rude but Viole ignores it. Nepotism for a literal prince. Sheesh, they should learn their history.

It's maybe three rooms, one a kitchen, living and resting area, one bathroom, and one for -

"Magic practice?"

Viole shakes his head. "I, I requested of the king a potions' area. You'll be going on expeditions, yes?"

"… It's likely." He'll likely be killing demons, killing some of Viole's own fellows.

"I want you to come back." Viole's quiet voice has become decisive and sure, and he looks at him with assurance Aguero doesn't think he'd have no matter how many times he was isekaied. "So I'll make you healing potions so you can."

"Even if I'll be killing your own."

Viole nods without hesitation.

Aguero swallows. "Then I'll do my best to return safely."

Viole doesn't need to know, he cannot know the depths of what the Moonlight Queen was willing to do for love. He cannot learn the person he must have cared for was not coming back.

Then again, he was also supposed to die.

Aguero would not allow that to happen.

Viole smiles. It's different from usual, small and sheepish and human. But also, possessively, like it belongs to Aguero and Aguero alone.

Hm. That's doing something to him.

"Aguero-ssi?" Viole starts as Aguero keeps inspecting the building. If the wood is rotten he will kill someone, plot be damned.

"Hm?"

"How, how long…" Viole stops a moment, looking at the sheets. Then, determination fills his face again. "How long have you known the truth about the prince?"

Aguero loses his grip on the door and it slams shut, leaving the two of them alone and staring at each other.

The contract thrums between them.

This is a bad time to think Viole is hot, isn't it?

It's midnight.

Viole knows because when he wakes up, the stars have shifted.

It's a spell, he knows that because his memories tell him that. His mother's voice, through pain and chain, murmurs that the king had made the spell for her, in hopes of moving her to the academy where she would forgive him and they'd chart the course of generations of humans (and possibly demons) to come.

She has never left the Prism Tower (his deals were too strong, his spells full of anger) and he never has lifted the spell.

It's awfully confusing. Where he's from, he could never have seen the stars so freely until he left the city. Now he's seen them every day.

He wishes he had a camera.

The disorienting feeling of two lives at once fades at the familiar energy of the king. He's probably been waiting for this opportunity. Viole hasn't been alone in years, barring a few specific occasions. Jahad would have waited for this time.

"Has he admitted to knowing the truth?" Jahad asks once Viole opens his eyes.

Viole sits up, observing the king's figure in the moonlight. He looks unchanged from that day, perhaps ten years ago in his memory. Or in this person's memory. It's still hard to distinguish.

He thinks of Aguero's face, surprised, too much to lie. "Always," he'd said.

Viole meets Jahad's eyes, and forces his voice not to tremble from the effort. "No."

The king looks at Viole and sees what he wants to see. Then he laughs. "I see. Things are still off, then."

Viole finds that he hates when the king laughs.

"Everything must continue down the passage of fate," he continues, reaching the bed. "Bar one change. We're at the point of no return, are we?"

Viole says nothing.

Jahad looms over him. He has to, to meet Viole's gaze and ensure he understands the gravity of the moment. It's a pretty decent technique most people have used on him, taking advantage of the fact that he is one of the shorter members of his friend group.

Unfortunately, it doesn't strike fear into his heart the way the screams of the woman a tower away can. The loss of dignity, the pulse of rage. The feeling of fear and coldness encroaching on his being.

"Remember now, Bam." The king's voice is soft and clear. "We will make my scenario come true. It's the only way you'll be free."

Viole nods silently. He doesn't flinch, hearing that name. Rather, all of him feels a disgusting amount of yearning to hear it again in normal ways, thanking for good sales, the six in the morning bakery openings, his father squeezing him close and laughing.

His friends.

But he dismisses it. He's Viole here, and it has to stay that way to get out.

Not that he trusts Jahad to do it. After all, he's the reason that Viole is in this world to begin with.

It's so lonely.

If only someone else understood how weird it all is. There were so many people staring at him all the time, and people interested.

It's just weird.

"Good." Jahad's voice brings him back to the present. "You will be rewarded for your work."

Viole says nothing. He prays that Jahad has forgotten something vital: he can also be lied to.

The first day of the game starts with an assembly.

Aguero can't even be upset that the prince doesn't walk him there. He had a speech to offer the incoming students as the student council president and likely had his hands full managing the Sunlight Saint.

What the fuck was her default name again?

Novick isn't allowed with him on campus, which kind of sucks. He'd been making dry commentary about the teenagers swooning over his biceps as he helped him move.

Some of them had commented on his too. Was it cool for girls to be muscular in this game?

Maybe it was just bugged and they did see a man.

These uniforms are not helping. Garters? Under these areas of his clothes? Seriously?

It can't be real, if the world is real, what does that mean about himself?

As he walks, the lighthouse takes in more information so he doesn't have to. He sees Hatz, the mercenary love interest standing with his sword at his hip at one side. Their eyes meet and Aguero makes a face.

Hatz looks away with a scoff.

Not surprising. In the past year, he's picked more fights with Hatz than Elliot, just because that route annoyed him. What was he, a log of wood? He was so stiff and honorable. It was boring.

Elliot seemed to be amused whenever it happened, or maybe it was just relief that Aguero wasn't ripping into him for once. And Aguero did not hesitate to rip into him either.

He knows of books where the villainess or whomever made books or shampoo or fixed taxes or whatever. He's not interested in that. This man will be the king of the country, with or without it, provided Jahad really does acquiesce and vacate the throne. (Doesn't the demon heir kill him in a route? That would be nice. Maybe on his own route.) If he was going to get killed (and he really hopes that it's painless or he's ejected from the body before that because the deaths are described as very brutal and painful), he;d like the prince to not be a stuck up piece of shit.

Then he spots Viole. He's towards the back, Fenryl splayed out on his legs. Aguero thinks of the original opening CG. It flashed between all four love interests, with a flicker of the demon's heir in shadow. Then the villainess, stalking to the front of the room, only to bump into-

Someone collides into his back. He doesn't stumble, but turns around to catch her instead.

"You all right?" He looks down at her. She's about a head shoulder, hair a wheat-blond instead of gold that gleamed in the sun. She blinks hazel eyes out of a freckled face, and smiles, stepping back.

"Oh, yes! Sorry about that."

"No worries." Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees a text box appear, scanned into his lighthouse.

"Sunlight Saint: Rachel Light."

They really could have picked a better name to hide her with.

Still, it's about time. Aguero points towards the front. "If you want to hear the speech, you should go up front. Be more careful when you walk."

Before she can say anything, Aguero beelines to sit next to Viole. As the fiancee, he really should sit up front and show off. But, frankly, he still doesn't like the guy, and being a bit of a buffer against the overwhelmed demon heir was a much better use of his time.

"You kept your hood down," he notes.

Viole makes a face. "People kept tugging at it."

"So punch them."

"I'd rather they go for my hood than my other clothes," Viole mumbles.

"Maria graduated, you'll be fine."

Viole yawns in reply. There are dark circles under his eyes that were not as pronounced yesterday.

"You can take a nap if you want," Aguero offers. "If Elliot's offended that's not your problem."

If only this world let minors drink coffee. When he gets cleared from whatever hospital he's hopefully in, Aguero fully intends to splurge on it.

Viole shakes his head. "People will talk. Or … worse."

He's not wrong about the worse part. There are people eyeing both of them. One of them is the Sunlight Saint, though she's trying to hide it by looking everywhere. Probably for the love interests.

Good luck to her on picking one.

A screen pops up by his face as Viole scrubs at his eyes. "Welcome Khun Aguero Agnis! The game has begun! Please ensure the world completes its proper scenario. The world is counting on your success."

It vanishes and leaves Aguero watching his fiancee step onto the stage. His eyes are as cold as jewels as they look around the room. He's not sure where the Sunlight Saint is until -

"Oh! Excuse me!"

-She sits down right next to him. There are so many people turned around in their chairs, but she sits in her school uniform that was likely a size too big on purpose to cover her thighs better and stares attentively at Prince Elliot like he might disappear.

He hopes the girl is bi, for her own sake. She was in the game.

"Be warned," another window says, popping up into view. "You are now no longer the only protagonist. Others will begin to try to break the scenario in search of their happy ending. Others already having, knowingly or not. Be prepared."

Be prepared, it said.

People started to clap for their prince.

Their princess. If only they knew.

Aguero glances at Rachel, so focused on the speech, her eyes wide and seemingly free of calculation.

The dickhead(s) who threw him here wouldn't have said that now by accident. She was probably just like him, except she wanted this. She wanted it more than anything.

Viole's hand brushes his wrist. He looks over and sees the demon point at the snoozing wolf half in his lap.

Despite himself, Aguero smiles.

Too fucking bad.

The first day had all sorts of events with the two main girls and Aguero couldn't be bothered to remember any of them. Ignoring Elliot always did enough to rile him up. It would hopefully be the same for Rachel. Something something, Jahad hated to be ignored by anyone for any reason, something something, kingship was for those who danced in the spotlight.

As if. He preferred giving the orders, not puppeteered to see them done.

So instead, Aguero ignores them and does what he likes. Unfortunately, Viole isn't in his class. He's in a smaller one, to minimize the inevitable rumor mongering and bullying that would arise from being a half-demon surrounded by people who could feasibly kill him, as was the class full of prodigies and the honor student.

Yeah he can't imagine leaving a demon and a saint in the same room was a great idea.

Unfortunately, his fiancee is also in this class, and Rachel is trying to chat with him.

Aguero just ignores them, including the way Elliot glares at him.

"You could be a little more gentlemanly," he says at one point. Hatz is on the other side of the room, and he would have agreed solely to be a shit.

Aguero doesn't look over, only down to encourage Fenryl to be the fluffiest distraction imaginable. "If she needs to be supervised and pampered to that effect, perhaps she's not ready for full-time education." He doesn't even have to pretend to sneer.

The Sunlight Saint having so much dialogue in game was so fucking annoying. Couldn't they have her do things? Lean in? step forward and not be protected? What's the point of a saint with no initiative?

He almost misses My Next Life as a War Hero? A Medic on the Battlefield! because at least that game had a death mechanic and a consequences mechanic.

On the other side of the room, someone sighs too, but it sounds more dreamlike than his own. He looks to his right.

That is a lot of heart eyes. And bedroom eyes.

He looks away. Rachel's eyes follow his for a moment before she says, "Doesn't it bother you? They're looking at your fiancee too?"

Aguero does sigh this time and leans back, petting Fenryl. "Elly is a big boy. if he can't handle a few people undressing myself or him with their eyes, he will not do well when they cross examine him for real. Of course, if it bothers you, little sun, then stand up to them."

Her face colors.

"You must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed," Elliot mutters icily.

"Seeing you amongst a crowd of normies will do that to me I'm afraid."

The teacher walks in before they can continue, but Aguero hears Rachel say, as she sits down. "You shouldn't let him talk to you that way, your highness."

"No one lets Aguero do anything," Elliot says with some mix of amusement and disdain. "He'll simply do it anyway."

Goodness, they make him sound like he has no strategy whatsoever.

It must be working then in any case.

Once classes end, Aguero leaves the chattering chorus of NPCs behind to find somewhere quiet.

At least in his university classes they'd grown out of teenagers gossiping like they thought adults did.

Of course, when he finds a place for peace and quiet (and one he thinks the Sunlight Saint won't go to), Viole is already there. He's laid flat on his back, arms splayed and eyes closed. March the cat mews as he approaches. How she got in and no one exploded is a question Aguero doesn't care to answer, so he comes over to check on him.

"You know, anyone could take advantage of you in this position?"

"Anyone?" Viole echoes. He sounds half-asleep. "Even you?"

"I wouldn't."

The words come out automatically, and he knows he means them, but it's still embarrassing to say so honestly.

"Even if there wasn't a contract?" Viole yawns, but one eye is open, in a mimicry of March the black cat. "I know the contract didn't effect you as much."

Aguero forces himself to breathe, to not panic as this is the second time that Viole has asked. First about when, and then about the contract directly. Why was he asking?

"The king doesn't know." Viole sits up slowly, eyes tired and wandering. "Or if he does, I haven't said anything."

Aguero slowly sits down. "Why haven't you?"

"Why did you take me from the tower?" Viole looks at him with those blazing eyes. "It is the same reason, isn't it?"

It's not, Aguero thinks to himself. I'm dooming this world to ruin, I can't let myself fall for one person. Especially when I'll leave.

The words stick in his throat, and Viole gives him that private little smile.

For the first time, Aguero thinks he can understand why the prince would turn away from the moon.

"Will I suffer the consequences of the contract?" he asks.

Viole blinks. "Do you want to marry her?"

Viole says it so quietly. As if his consent really matters, and that the confirmation does say everything.

"Fuck no," Aguero says without hesitation, and lays down beside him.

Viole laughs. It sounds hoarse and wrong, like a sob contained in his stomach and throat.

What would he sound like with my name in his mouth?

He's not even sure he can blame the game world for this one.

Aguero's hands bunch in the dirt and then they let go. And then he breathes, in and out, visualizing the contract once more. He hasn't looked at it in over a year now.

A jagged golden line runs through it on one side, from the prince's side to his own. And now, on the other, the spell cracks with silver-pink light, like a piece of stained glass.

There really is no purity in a porn game, Aguero thinks wryly, and leans his face over to Viole's. Viole stares at him, gold and pink eyes and daring.

"He should have cheated with someone prettier, like I am," he says.

Viole laughs again, a puff of air in his face, a sob close to the edge.

Aguero holds him and thinks he understands, but he hopes he's wrong.

"Hey," he says. "Budge up. I want a nap."

"We could be attacked," Viole murmurs.

"You're a big scary demon and I have enough water magic to flood the courtyard," Aguero yawns. "Let them try."

He leans on Viole's outstretched arm and relaxes. Viole eventually relaxes with him.

He'll let himself want, when he's not so tired.

Chapter Text

Things have shifted in the past month or so.

Elliot knows he is terrible with change. He's been terrible with his one change that has guided his whole life. If things stay the way they are, he know how to handle them. Most of the time. He isn't perfect.

If only his fiancee was more graceful about it.

No, that's being generous. Khun Aguero Agnis is demanding, rude, and all levels of obnoxious. He's intelligent, and though he doesn't flaunt his natural magic, he uses it without any hesitation.

Father - he squashes the thought of his former parents, who dropped him here and said "look, he is strong but stupid. Make use of him." - had said that ruling was different from conquering, and until he learned it, the throne would not be his.

Elliot sincerely doubts he'll retain the throne anyway. None of the princesses will, no matter how much they fuck his adoptive father.

(Sometimes the wrongness itches his brain, but not enough to understand why.)

But Khun doesn't know that, surely. He acts like he knows everything (and in fairness, he knows quite a bit), but he can't know the truth.

Everything was a game to father. Everything could be won if you just tried a little. Sometimes it feels like his fiancee is the same way.

The problem is, Elliot has not found the winning condition for him.

It's not like he'll be destitute if they don't take the throne, nor did anyone invest heavily into his education to rule alongside Elliot. Even his sickly brother is healthier now, so his branch of the Khun family would endure well.

Elliot sighs. His hair has gotten longer and his chest has filled out, so it itches up his spine to deal with it. How inconvenient.

Father said if he graduated, he would allow him to make changes that were appropriate for his station. Even now, his stomach flips unpleasantly at the concept of the process, let alone it succeeding. Perhaps Father knows because he doesn't mention it. Not out of consideration, but out of smugness. He knows when he will succeed. It is just inevitable. As it should be.

Elliot lets out a long breath and pinches his nose. A warm, nervous voice says, "You don't look so good, Elliot-nim!"

You are another reason why. "Good morning, Rachel," Elliot says simply. He turns to her. Fenryl ignores her, which isn't new. Fenryl liking Viole seems to be more due to his demonic blood than any actual affection on the matter. As always, Rachel falters at the sight of it. He'd tell her not to take it personally, but then, he's not sure he really cares.

Jahad told him to keep track of her. 'She's younger and less aware than you,' he'd said absently before going back to signing documents. 'She'll commit more faux-pas than any of your other sisters, you need to correct course.'

Her current biggest faux-pas was affection. She, like father, seemed to misconstrue an idea of closeness, and as willing to do anything for it. Case in point now, she keeps just enough distance to not be obvious, but not too far away that she can't grab him.

Again, she's not subtle. But her open honesty is much brighter than Aguero's, so he prefers it.

"Don't distract me!" she chides. She reminds him of his older sisters sometimes, and the younger twins others. At this moment, she's a noisy younger girl, leaning on him with her hands too posed incorrectly on his chest.

"You're being impertinent," Hatz says quietly. He never seems affected by any of it of course, but he'd sworn an oath until he could find his failed charge and apologize. Sometimes, Elliot wonders who has his guard's loyalty this tightly, so he can shake them for failing him.

He really wonders who leaked the information, if it was leaked at all. He dismisses Aguero upfront as they have never spent time together that would require changing, and even if he knew, the contract would forbid him from telling anyone who didn't already know. So it was likely one of the princesses who told her, or even Father himself.

Why would he, though?

Rachel turns to Hatz, wide-eyed. "How is it impertinent to worry about him? He's the one who's been so nice to me this whole time. He's cared about me. I'd still be lost about forks without him. Shouldn't I return the favor somehow?"

"Your heart isn't into it," Hatz says, voice flat. "And regardless, he has a fiancee. It would be improper."

That doesn't stop Khun Eduan any, Elliot thinks but doesn't say. He gently nudges Rachel off. She's done this enough times and looked for something that wasn't there. But she's still kissed him.

And he, regretfully, has enjoyed it.

Aguero has deliberately avoided it. Nothing beyond holding hands in public, and never anything remotely like a kiss. Elliot wasn't exactly interested either. But sometimes. sometimes.

There was a look in Aguero's eyes, a gleam of absolute loathing and the bitter taste of betrayal, something he hadn't done himself, but could.

Well, mostly. The contract still remained in place, despite the makeout session.

He doesn't want to betray Aguero but …

"Elliot," Rachel says, looking genuinely hurt. "Tell him I'm not wrong."

Elliot blinks. Hatz and Rachel are glaring, well, Hatz is glaring. Rachel looks pleading. "Apologies," he says. "I wasn't paying attention. What is it?"

"Khun-ssi is a terrible partner," Rachel says. Her voice wavers. "He skips class all the time, and he never spends any time with you. And when he does show up, he just shows off and leaves! What's he even doing? It just feels so suspicious."

"He is dishonorable," Hatz agrees without hesitation. "And inconsiderate. But he has spent plenty of time with Elliot before now. He also focuses heavily on his family's territory."

Rachel's expression is disbelieving. What has she heard about him? All he's heard about Aguero is that he's standoffish and keeps to his territory, donating and focusing on building it up. He has strong intuition and frightening talent with water and ice.

Was there an avenue of information the princesses haven't explored? Clearly they've only met once.

Elliot shakes his head. "Aguero is a lot of things, and many of them insufferable, but as my fiancee, he has a strong focus on protecting this realm in his own way and regardless, I do not think he behaves that way out of malice."

All this time with her, and she still pouts like a child. "But he's-"

"There's nothing to worry about," Elliot says simply. "And if there is, it is the demons that remain in the Sky. If they gain a hint of how things are, they will invade and you will need to be ready with your holy flames. That is what matters here. Everything else is petty. Understand?"

Rachel sighs and climbs to sit properly in her chair. Her steps are still ginger, years of an unhealed hip injury that she was unable to heal taking their toll. "If you're sure."

"I'm very certain." Elliot's fingers slide into Fenryl's fur once more. He doesn't react much to it but he rarely does. "And if I am wrong, you will be allowed to hold it over me as much as you want."

Her face darkens red and Rachel waves her hands nervously. "No, no, I could never!" She smiles. "You were so kind to me and defended me from the others who refused to believe the test. I just want you to feel as supported as I do."

"I appreciate that." The teacher arrives at that moment, the forbidden mage whose skills were sealed by father and a former princess. Now he was stuck working for them, as long as those chains were in place. They would last as long as father lived.

He always looked so defiant. It was much like Khun.

He hopes the similarities mean little in the long run.

Rachel sits up straight to pay attention. She didn't need to. He spoke of power in these lessons, of the importance of using it for your goals and not wasting time with fruitless endeavors. Always advancing onward, always growing further.

For a moment, Elliot thinks of the demon's heir, who was likely also in class now, surrounded by the ire of humans who had lost family members in the past war, or more likely, whose parents had lost someone.

Why would father bring him now? He won't age as fast as the rest of them. They could wait him out. Human grudges faded, and both he and the demon's ruler were bound by father anyway… so why now?

Elliot wishes Adori were here. She would have no doubts, unlike him.

Unlike Lo Po Bia Elaine.

This isn't working.

Rachel tugs on her ponytail. Nothing is working.

The gods had said that the route was supposed to be secure, that she could do what she liked but-

She tugs her lighthouse into view. It was a quiet corner, no one would look for her. No one would see her moving her hands and think it was anything other than her practicing magic.

She squeezes her fist and the flames form, sputtering to life for a brief instant. They fade after a moment. Rachel curses through her teeth.

On the lighthouse screen, bright sunshiney yellow, the love interest bars remain low.

Hatz is the lowest. He seems perpetually annoyed, so that makes sense, but she doesn't know why. His route to her was the easiest. Appealing to an honorable person's need to move forward and always protect the weak, even through failure, but with Elliot around it wasn't working.

Elliot was higher, but that was because he seemed so starved for affection. He'd take anything kind, no matter how many walls you put up. She just had to get him to admit the truth and things would be much, much easier.

The teacher was easy. You had to show him a spine in game, an interest in the forbidden. He was the highest, but that didn't mean much. He was greedy. She needed to be more careful with him. There were so many ways to a bad end with him. She couldn't risk dying to him and his machinations.

If only Elliot was listening to her.

The second to last route she played-

"I know you're a fake."

Rachel shudders. She can't worry about that right now. Not when everything was going on.

There was no way she could get close to the fourth love interest, the one most loyal to the Moonlight Queen. He was hardly around, and couldn't be at the school anyway. She had to wait until the excursions were unlocked in a few weeks and then she could seek him out.

The aide to the Moonlight Queen, Novick.

His route fleshed out so much of the villainess and what she was really up to with the Prince. All it had done was reinforce how awful he was when she'd played it. Someone who hid a hunger for power behind kindness and intelligence.

And Khun clearly was no different.

He was obviously a bug.

He had to be.

Rachel puts the lighthouse away without looking at the fifth love interest. The Demon Prince. She had only seen him once. He was by far, the most annoying route to clear.

But she would clear them all. The devs said it wasn't possible, that they hadn't programmed in that route in her game but would consider it. But that was the only way to reach the Starless Sky and claim its night and crown.

She would do whatever it takes.

The problem of Khun Aguero Agnis is simple in her eyes: he doesn't go out of his way to antagonize her. In fact he seems to be avoiding her. He never talks to her in class, nor does he put any effort in to make her feel welcome or unwelcome. He just comments on what's already there, or focuses on what he's doing.

If anything, he spends so much time with Viole. Every time she searches event areas to trigger a flag, they're there together. Khun doesn't seem to notice, but Viole always does.

His face isn't supposed to be uncovered.

All through the game, the prince kept his horns covered. After all, for every person who found him attractive, another found him a monster.

Poor monster. It wasn't his fault his parents were foolish.

But here he was, with his hood down and his guard down.

The final boss of the game shouldn't act that way. They should be mysterious and powerful and lonely, meant to be saved by true love. By a kiss from a beloved. A secret to be uncovered, a gift for all the hard work.

And yet … that Khun.

Rachel breathes out. "Headon-nim."

The screen forms, brilliant gold and soft orange. "Hello, chosen one."

"Where is Khun now?"

"I'm not a map."

Rachel grimaces. She's acting spoiled. "Is this a part of the scenario?"

"The scenario was broken, Sunlight Saint. The gods are doing all they can to fix it but it will be difficult. Not to worry though, we chose you for a reason. The sun flows within you. You will be able to succeed."

The words calm her racing heart. She will succeed. She was chosen for this.

Rachel smiles and discards the screen. That settled it then. If they wouldn't listen to her, she'd just have to make sure there was no way they couldn't. That there was nothing stopping them.

If Khun was a glitch, then the rest were bugged. She just had to force in and fix it.

She doesn't stomp her feet, no, she doesn't lose faith. Because she, Rachel Light, is the Sunlight Saint now, and she will succeed where she failed. This time for sure, she will get the happiest ending and return home with everything she deserves.

Icarus flew too close to the sun. She wouldn't. And if she did, it wouldn't burn her.

Another long day passes. The NPCs are kind but brainless, the worst kind of interactions. But still. She has to keep going if she wants to find her happy ending.

As she heads towards her own residence, Rachel hears a soft sound. A quiet groan from behind a wall. Then there's a soft laugh.

"Licking my hand is cheap." Someone says.

Rachel's ears turn red. Part of the brainless aspect of the NPCs was half of them were having sex in the side areas. The princesses had no shame either. Most people didn't. Even this outfit the skirts were just too short.

At least Elliot was a gentleman. All the love interests went out of their way to avoid touching the saint actually, as if they might corrupt her.

Whatever. She just had to keep walking. Nothing would happen if she just, kept going.

Then, a soft voice whispers. "Khun-ssi."

They shush the other. "Relax. Who is going to say anything?"

Rachel turns. There. He was right there. If she just turned her head, angled correctly, yes. Khun had someone else (a flicker of red and blue, it couldn't be the demon prince, there's no way) presssed against the wall. One of his hands was out of view, likely between their legs. There's a pleasant flush on both their faces. Except Khun had turned his head, just so.

"No one's going to." Khun grunts, twisting his hand. There's a strangled little whine in reply. "Say anything, especially not the saint who has the prince's tongue down her throat on a regular basis."

Rachel's whole body burns.

"In fact." Khun's free hand stopped holding up his partner moving lower instead. "Unless she wants to watch, she should go back to him. Unless she'd like to choke on something else."

Anger replaces shame. She'd done nothing wrong. This was part of the game, this was what she was supposed to do, this was what she deserved-

Rachel runs.

Chapter Text

For data, Aguero thinks, the prince sure could bite.

Demons obviously had sharp teeth to eat raw flesh, down to the bone. Half demons probably had weaker canines but barely. He's pretty sure Viole has drawn blood.

Right now those teeth were in his shoulder to keep quiet, so he didn't wake up the poor people a few doors down who hadn't learned how to soundproof.

Not that Aguero really cares. Right now, he is in an ecstasy he hasn't felt for months (years if he's counting the time passing in game), arguably since tryouts and he'd been in football hell. Arguably longer, but he doesn't like to think about middle school exam hell.

This game has to be bugged, he thinks vaguely, slowing his thrusts for a moment to check if Viole has drawn blood. (He has, which, huh, that's a kink he didn't know he had.)

The routes for Demon's Sun that he'd beaten went as follows: crossdressing prince (a lesbian route), mercenary (het romance with a confirmed bisexual), insane former criminal teacher (bad end that upon new game gave you some items that only slightly lower than the saint's canonical armor), and traitorous bodyguard (straight as hell).

He knows there were background queer relationships. They were just irrelevant compared to the main ones and were ultimately written harmlessly enough. No one dies for being gay, someone comes out with help of the protagonist, there's a messy one on the villainess adjacent route about bisexuality and faking deaths and shit. All fascinating, which explains why they're not in the main story.

Not for the first time, Aguero wishes that he'd played the fucking final boss route before getting yeeted into the game because the demon genderqueer shit was neat but he has no clue if it's bugged or not.

Then again, he thinks, as Viole tenses up around him, teeth trying to bury deeper into his shoulder, does it really fucking matter?

There could be worse people to cheat on your cheating fiancee with. At least Viole has personality and responds to stimulation.

Viole pulls away and kisses him bloody and ah, yep, he is never going to get this back at home. He returns it furiously, letting his thoughts go and simply trying to exist.

After all, he's also data now, no big deal.

Viole is quiet once they're done, though he usually is. He's just quiet in general. "Have our esteemed classmates been bothering you?" Aguero asks when the silence gets too much for even him.

"March bites them." Viole gestures to the cat sleeping by the window. Viole's bedsheets are plain and boring and the pillows used to be at least a few years old until Aguero had threatened nicely about treating all students equally or not treating them at all. But March? March has everything brand new. In the real world, he'd have been dubbed a little eccentric at least.

"I think she has a cold," Viole adds. He looks at Aguero for confirmation and it adds more guilt to this already fucked up situation. Maybe he could steal Viole back with him? They could justify the horns as cosplay or something. It'd be hard, but cut his hair, teach him a lot, maybe?

He scrubs his eyes and says, "I'm glad someone has a more deterring bite than you." Instead of continuing that train of thought. He was not falling down the road of all of his followers and thinking his only future was with 2D men. Even if the 2D men were currently multidimensional at the moment and could suck his dick.

Viole doesn't blush, but if he could, it would look like that, eyes on his knees and hands scrunching the fabric of his clothes. "You're also a great help, Aguero-ssi."

"I am?" He doesn't even glare at people or tell them off until they start going past the rules of fairness or it's horseshit.

Viole blinks. "You walk with me to class? You eat lunch with me? You convinced Fenryl to patrol around me?"

"I think Fenryl just does that," Aguero argues because the demon dog is not stupid unlike his owner.

Viole shrugs. "But you're being insistent about it. Thank you!"

He wears that sad little smile again, like what Aguero did was more than the bare minimum, more than he deserves. And Aguero just, he considers-

He wishes he knew how to save this one person. But he doesn't, and so Aguero tucks the guilt away for himself and himself alone.

"Hey," he says instead. "Want me to stay tonight?"

As if it will fix anything.

Viole's eyes brighten and he nods.

So Aguero does, and he counts down the days when this will end.

People whisper about him the next day. They stare. Some admiring faces are disbelieving. Some of them are almost hostile. It should bother him but-

Ariadne's back was ramrod straight and she met disdain with her own. Aguero is the son of Khun Eduan in real life, a sports playboy who fucked anyone with a pulse that could be bribed. There are much worse things than stares.

So he raises his eyebrows and lets water dance into ice on his fingertips. His hands are free, since there's no textbooks for today's lessons. "Like what you see?" he asks as they glare.

They all fidget as one unholy mass. Ah, NPCs. Kill them. Or something.

Aguero keeps walking. They don't frighten him. At most, they're annoying. The one he's waiting for hasn't managed to trip any of the event flags with him that he had expected, so for all he knows, there's a deadlock with him, or Rachel has been so busy with the other events for the prince (unless she's doing a different route?) that anything to do with the villainess was on the backburner. He's not sure and that worries him.

Novick is already at the stables when he arrives. Aguero watches from a distance at first. He's gentler with the horses than he ever was with Aguero. He'd needed it. The villainess' body was stick thin and magically inclined. Learning to actually have a good punch was something he'd not missed.

Still, those huge hands settle the horse down to feed and keep brushing one side. Then he goes to the other. As he grooms the horse, his red eyes scan for hoof growth and presumably other concerns.

At home, Aguero had only seen horses in books and games, and even now the idea of a creature that could explicitly stomp you to death if you were too upset in its presence was more than a little deterring to someone like him. Still, watching Novick made it look frustratingly easy. He takes a couple of steps forwards until the sound of rustling clothing and shoes reaches his ears. At once, Aguero steps back out of sight as Rachel rushes into view. She has a bag of apples threatening to burst from her arms.

"Novick-ssi! You're still here!"

The horses nicker and the one Novick is examining trots nervously in place. Novick gives her a look and she stops in place at once.

Well, Khun thinks dryly. He's got her well-trained.

He hadn't mentioned seeing her. He'd kept their discussions on their home territory and the myriad of tasks he was having Novick managed, but still.

After a few moments of watching her fidget, Novick cools down the horse and turns to her. "You're trying to spoil them," he grunts. "And you keep being so loud. You wanna learn to ride, you need to be patient."

… That is not the dialogue that happens in this route. He knows for a fact that the entirety of the dialogue with the villainess' bodyguard was trying to befriend the villainess and it failing hilariously. Then it had turned to them "growing close". had she already decided that was pointless?

Was she bugged?

Rachel does flush. "Sorry, I was just worried because you'd been out here for so long. I didn't want to miss you before Khun-ssi took you away."

"How clandestine," Novick drawls. "He's my boss, you know. It's not taking me away to get me to do my job."

"Of course it is!" Rachel's voice almost keens in desperation. "You don't even get to live here! You have tp live off site and come all the way here for his noble whims!"

"You're also noble," Novick comments while Aguero tries his damnedest not to laugh. "I know you were a commoner once. You talk like it. but you're a noble now. You gotta be more careful. Besides," He begins packing things away. "It's better than bein' bored and he lets me get a good fight in. That's enough, to me."

"How?" Her voice quavers.

"I don't gotta pay for land." Novick's voice is steady. "I don't gotta worry about my girlfriend going broke or having nothin'. I don't have to bend and scrape and bow. He's not interested in that. He has me do my jobs, I do them, and I go home."

Aguero watches Rachel's face twitch and contort, smile dropping, eyes wobble. She looks down and mutters. "That's not right either…"

"Something up, princess?" Novick's drawl makes her head snap up. Her face shifts immediately to something sheepish.

"I'm not a princess, Novick-ssi!" Rachel sits on the nearby bench as he goes to the next horse. "I have plenty of half-sisters for that."

"A despot queen then," he jokes. "Since you're still going for that princeling. Greedy of you."

Her face colors. "You make it sound so terrible. Khun-ssi doesn't love him! He deserves better!"

"It's square," Novick says mildly. "The prince is a bitch."

"That's treasonous," Rachel says, but she laughs.

A perfect, pure little laugh.

Wonder if she's said that to his face, Khun thinks but doubts.

"He's high strung," Rachel says instead. "He wants to replace father properly. I can't blame him for being nervous. And Khun-ssi doesn't let him relax at all."

"If boss' demands are a bother to him he should be less of a bother." Novick gets back to his next task. "It'll be his duty just like the prince. If they can't do it then he should find something else. Boss has that covered."

Rachel wrings her hands. "He could still be kinder."

"Why?" Novick asks. "You have our sunshine for that."

It takes Aguero an embarrassingly long time to realize he's referring to Viole."

Rachel makes a face. "He's still not interested."

"He sees you're after someone else. A lot of people. And it's not like you're helping things." Novick fills the water with a quick tool wave. "You gotta slow down. Take your time."

"I don't have time," she protests and this Aguero takes as his cue. he strolls out and clears his throat.

"Is she bothering you, Novick?"

Rachel jumps but Novick waves a hand. "All's good, boss. They're still cleaning the carriage. Some birds got to it."

"Mm." Convenient. Definitely not birds then. "Could you go get Viole, then? I have a pass for you." He tosses the ribboned tag over, wood painted a dark blue. Novick catches it and nods.

"Will ya be fine here?"

"Of course. After all," he meets the nerves in Rachel's face with a placid smile. "I can't be burned."

Novick smirks and jogs away.

Once he's gone and they're alone, Aguero sighs. "What's your problem with me?"

She freezes. "I'm, I'm not sure what you mean."

He's tempted to just ask the truth, to just get it over with. "I know you're fucking my fiancee," he continues, grabbing one of the apples she'd left behind and tossing it into the air. "I know you're interested in Novick there, and Elly's bodyguard, and who knows who else. I'm not stopping you. We'll marry for the kingdom or not at all and frankly neither is my problem. I'm not getting in your way, if you want to concubine your way into a nice castle of your own. You're the one who's going after a cheating asshat. So, what's with you?"

Rachel's mouth twists into a frown. "I… I don't-"

"You know what you're doing," he says lightly. "Of course you do. This is the first I've heard you trying to sink your teeth into Viole, of course, but he's probably not going to care. He doesn't know you from the teachers. Why would he care?"

Her fists clench and she doesn't speak for a while. This is fine. He's just going to wile away time while he waits.

The protagonist has made contact with all of the love interests. He'd guessed as much. As she sits there, Khun silently toys with the lighthouse, watching it updating information in real time.

He hadn't used it much for plot things, more or less for tracking the things that the original Moonlight Queen had done in the past and replicating them. The fact of the matter was that there was no way that the prince route would end in the villainess' family territory utterly shot to shit and just be handed back to the youngest. It had to be in good condition for it to look like the villainess simply wanted more.

Which, she had, but that was normal. Who wasn't greedy for all the lights in the world? Who wasn't eager to become better than the best, to reach the heights they deserved?

So, all the stupid prince and self-righteous saint had done was give a fixed territory to an ill child so he'd tide it along until they learned what they were doing. It'd be clever if they weren't stupid. At least in those routes, the mercenary and bodyguard assisted the ill kid.

But he's not ill now, Aguero thinks with a wry smile. He's happy, healthy, and will be fine in the end.

Granted, he still has to finish securing the rest of the family, but they were all proud and stubborn. Today he'd have to do the hard work of convincing them.

"… doesn't make sense." Rachel's mumbling has grown too loud to ignore now and so he turns to her. He leaves the horse he'd been examining alone. They tend to bother him less now, which he supposes means he can borrow one and fuck off if this all goes wrong.

… Aguero is not going ot think about if this fails and he's stuck in this shithole. At least I'll have Viole, I suppose.

"What doesn't make sense?"

Aguero watches her visibly hesitate, her mouth shift and twitch as she tries to lie her way out of this, as she tries to think of something bland and good girl that will save her. She could just leave, honestly. He wouldn't care. She was clearly too scared to do anything to him directly for whatever reason.

Then, before his eyes, Rachel shifts. The wide hazel look, frantic and nervous, changes to something else. Her eyes narrow, she slouches a little, and she looks at him with something annoyed.

"You're like me," she says softly. "Aren't you, Khun-ssi?"

"I'm not a commoner," he says blandly, to hide the way his skin crawls at her tone. "I did get unfortunately lucky, if that's what you mean."

She shakes her head. "No, you've done this before. You're not subtle, you know. When you are planning something, it doesn't show on your face, but you look at me. Like you know me, like I'm familiar. But, you're not. Not to me." She gets to her feet. "You're supposed to be a girl, Khun-ssi. And you're not."

"You can blame my old man for that one." And his sister really, but in terms of genetics, absolutely his father.

She scowls, a bit too hard for a saint. Her hands ignite briefly and it vanishes in the airless gap between palm and knuckle.

Aguero considers crouching to be particularly rude, but decides against it. "Have you considered I watch you because I'm the only one who can put it out if you make mistakes?" Both of them have good marks, close to equal if he's honest, but he edges her out in anything magical or physical.

She doesn't pause. "You watch me too closely for that, like you're waiting for me to do something. And you stay by that prince of demons too much."

"People make friends, Rachel. Don't you have any?"

"I don't think the villainess fucks her friends," she says, without missing a beat. Whatever Rachel sees on his face must click, because she nods in satisfaction. "I thought you were bugged," she continues. "And that's why the scenarios weren't working. But no, it makes sense if you're also from my world."

Her world. "I didn't know you were god," Aguero says, taking a careful look around.

Rachel laughs. "It'd be easier for you, right? You want to save the villainess from her fate. You wouldn't avoid me if you didn't."

Save her? Aguero imagines Ariadne, her dead expression, her screaming rage as everything fell apart, as she thought of two others in her last moments twice over.

(Then three, then four… a fifth betrayal would be the worst, truly!)

Then he laughs.

He doesn't laugh often. Hard to when you're abused so heavily. A snort, an unabashed snicker, a few huffs of laughter, but honest, raw noise of it came off as a bit of a cackle these days when he did it was so uncommon. So he knows exactly why Rachel takes a step away from him, he gets it, but it makes him laugh harder, makes him almost wheeze at the fear and confusion (and anger, she looks so patronizing, he wants to hurl) on her face.

Slowly, Aguero's laughter fades. He pulls himself properly outright, a looming presence, perfectly poised and ready to be reviled.

"That ship sailed a long time ago. There's no narrative where she can be happy. You and the people like you ensured that." He shrugs his shoulders. "Otherwise, if I wanted to stop you, I would have. I'm just here to enjoy myself and do what I want. If my destiny is to die, then I'll die with a bit of spite."

Her teeth grit. Her shoulders clench. Then Rachel scowls. "If you mean that, then leave Viole out of it."

"How informal." He laughs. "I don't want to. I like him. He's interesting. And he offered. You have the prince, the teacher, and even the prince's bodyguard. You could never please them all. You shouldn't be so greedy. It's not possible."

That is the wrong - or perhaps right - thing to say. She glares at him, softness fully gone. It angles her face, and lets her eyes gleam with fire.

"I'm the protagonist," she says with salt and fury. "Anything is possible for me. All you're doing is delaying the inevitable. So just roll over and die and let me get the ending I deserve."

The ending … she deserves.

Stay still, Ariadne hears her husband-to-be, say. And let them have what they deserve. I will do the same, demon.

Someone had been kind enough to warn him of that ending.

"What do you deserve?" Aguero asks gently. She opens her mouth but he continues. "What do you deserve that the queen doesn't also deserve? That I, a living being, don't deserve? That Viole doesn't deserve. He has a choice, and if you want to take it because you're the protagonist." He leans over, ignoring the flinch he gets. "I'll give you the worst ending I can."

"He's just data," Rachel blurts out. "They're all just data, why do you care?"

Honestly, he doesn't know. They are just data. Every game he's played, they're just data on a screen who he's gotten invested in for some reason.

But Viole, he felt real around him, offered help when it was against parameters. Gabriel growing from frail and weak to alive, chasing Ran at speeds he never could have done. Alexi, going to bat for him when she did not exist before, and did not have to. He thinks of his father, of Fenryl, of Novick.

Of magic, bright and eager in his palms.

Of Ariadne's pain, so raw and unforgettable, even in Aguero's dreams.

Does it matter if they're data or not?

Of his fans, who he knows are people behind a screen, but are just usernames.

Aguero steps back, turning towards the sound of March meowing a few meters away. Viole is rounding the corner. So he looks back a moment and smirks. "Data doesn't fuck that good."

He walks away, joining Viole and gently guiding him away from the protagonist. At his confused noise, Aguero just smiles. "Don't worry about it. She's weird."

Viole's eyebrows go high. "I see."

"What's that look supposed to mean?" he teases and kisses him.

Viole responds eagerly enough, but pulls away and says, "Your brother will worry."

That's very true and he is weak to his data family's wants.

He'll worry about what Rachel will make of this moment when he gets back. He has a trap to spring.