If you want to destroy my sweater... pull this thread as I walk awaaaaaaaaaaaaay
Because I apparently have nothing better to do than to write silly half-fics about La Pucelle.
However, this time I am using actual canon, not Island canon... so spoilers for Ragnarok.
There was always a certain amount of risks pulling something like this off, but for once, Croix didn’t really have a choice. Silently slipping away from the many vassals around, he made his way to the library. Luckily for him, most of Prier’s vassal weren’t of the intellectual type, bar her, so at least he knew the chances of him getting caught were slim.
And just as he predicted, there was only one person in the library and it was exactly who he was looking for. In the middle of the library, not even raising her eyes away from her book to acknowledge the newcomer sat the succubus Demon Lord, Jacinthe, Prier’s first general and possibly one of her most trusted vassal... not to mention, one of the most “eccentric”.
After all, it was rather rare in this day and age to find a prudish succubus.
It took Croix to perform the most unconvincing cough in order for her to finally raise her eyes, only to immediately drop her book and stand up. “Forgive me, my Prince. How may I be of service?”
“... could you stop calling me that?” Croix answered back, knowing quite well just how futile his demand was.
“No, my Prince... though I could call you the ‘Dark Hero’ if you prefer?” she answered back, her response sounding more like she was reading off a sitcom script.
“No... no... nevermind... can I just ask you something?” he finally said, giving up on the ever present naming problems and ignoring her small smirk. Looking behind him just to check one last time if Prier wasn’t magically standing behind him, he finally dropped the one million dollar question. “What should I get Prier for her birthday?”
“A sweater.”
There was an awkward moment of silence where Croix could do nothing more than simply stare at the succubus. Not only because of the answer, but mostly because it took her at most 0.5 seconds to answer him. “A sweater?”
“Yes, my Prince, a sweater. The same type of clothing I am currently wearing,” she said, tugging on her turtleneck. “It’s usually made of wool or synthetic materials in order to cover up the -“
“I know what a sweater is, Jacinthe. I just... why?”
She said nothing and simply sat back down, her hands wandering on her book again, indicating that she was already tired of the question period.
“Alright then... it’s still a pretty strange ides for a birthday gift, especially from a succubus.”
“Well,” she said, picking up her book and badly hiding her grin behind it. “I’m not the one asking a succubus for ideas for his girlfriend.”
“Touché.”
- - -
There was a certain dread in the air. No one was sure why, but it seemed like the entire church was on edge, as if something awful was just hanging over their heads, like a sword ready to drop any second now. And this feeling of dread only got bigger as Croix handed over his gift to Prier.
“A sweater?”
And the vassals held their breath.
“Yep, a sweater.”
There were small, barely audible sounds of agony coming from the room beyond.
“Oh... okay... umm, thanks Croix, that’s nice. I’ll wear it.”
And suddenly the entire castle cried out, as if their last hope got snuffed out.
Croix: Mine, bitches. *shot*
However, this time I am using actual canon, not Island canon... so spoilers for Ragnarok.
There was always a certain amount of risks pulling something like this off, but for once, Croix didn’t really have a choice. Silently slipping away from the many vassals around, he made his way to the library. Luckily for him, most of Prier’s vassal weren’t of the intellectual type, bar her, so at least he knew the chances of him getting caught were slim.
And just as he predicted, there was only one person in the library and it was exactly who he was looking for. In the middle of the library, not even raising her eyes away from her book to acknowledge the newcomer sat the succubus Demon Lord, Jacinthe, Prier’s first general and possibly one of her most trusted vassal... not to mention, one of the most “eccentric”.
After all, it was rather rare in this day and age to find a prudish succubus.
It took Croix to perform the most unconvincing cough in order for her to finally raise her eyes, only to immediately drop her book and stand up. “Forgive me, my Prince. How may I be of service?”
“... could you stop calling me that?” Croix answered back, knowing quite well just how futile his demand was.
“No, my Prince... though I could call you the ‘Dark Hero’ if you prefer?” she answered back, her response sounding more like she was reading off a sitcom script.
“No... no... nevermind... can I just ask you something?” he finally said, giving up on the ever present naming problems and ignoring her small smirk. Looking behind him just to check one last time if Prier wasn’t magically standing behind him, he finally dropped the one million dollar question. “What should I get Prier for her birthday?”
“A sweater.”
There was an awkward moment of silence where Croix could do nothing more than simply stare at the succubus. Not only because of the answer, but mostly because it took her at most 0.5 seconds to answer him. “A sweater?”
“Yes, my Prince, a sweater. The same type of clothing I am currently wearing,” she said, tugging on her turtleneck. “It’s usually made of wool or synthetic materials in order to cover up the -“
“I know what a sweater is, Jacinthe. I just... why?”
She said nothing and simply sat back down, her hands wandering on her book again, indicating that she was already tired of the question period.
“Alright then... it’s still a pretty strange ides for a birthday gift, especially from a succubus.”
“Well,” she said, picking up her book and badly hiding her grin behind it. “I’m not the one asking a succubus for ideas for his girlfriend.”
“Touché.”
- - -
There was a certain dread in the air. No one was sure why, but it seemed like the entire church was on edge, as if something awful was just hanging over their heads, like a sword ready to drop any second now. And this feeling of dread only got bigger as Croix handed over his gift to Prier.
“A sweater?”
And the vassals held their breath.
“Yep, a sweater.”
There were small, barely audible sounds of agony coming from the room beyond.
“Oh... okay... umm, thanks Croix, that’s nice. I’ll wear it.”
And suddenly the entire castle cried out, as if their last hope got snuffed out.
Croix: Mine, bitches. *shot*