Prompt 28: Turning to the Undefeated Lioness of the Battlefield for advice on how to win her love, was either the single stupidest or smartest thing Noelle had ever done in her lifetime.
—
Noelle Silva was a noble. A royal. A princess of the esteemed House of Silva.
She had been raised with the utmost etiquette, taught the refined arts of battle and poise, and bred to hold her head high amongst those who would challenge her status.
And yet—
She couldn't do something as simple as confess her feelings to a certain loud, muscle-brained idiot.
It had been years. Years.
Years of subtle glances, flustered stammering, furious denials, and burning jealousy whenever some random girl got too close to Asta. Yet, she still couldn't bring herself to say it.
It was humiliating.
She had tried everything. Telling herself she wasn't ready. Telling herself he wasn't ready. Telling herself the time wasn't right. Telling herself that if she just waited long enough, he'd eventually get the hint and confess to her instead.
But Asta, despite his insane strength and determination, was the single densest person she had ever met.
He wasn't going to realize it on his own.
And so, with nowhere else to turn, she did the unthinkable.
She went to Mereoleona Vermillion for help.
—
The crackling of the campfire filled the silence between them. Mereoleona sat cross-legged, tearing into a piece of roasted boar, the juices dripping onto her fingers.
"So," the Crimson Lioness drawled, licking the grease from her hand. "You want me to help you hunt a man?"
Noelle fidgeted under the intense gaze. "I—um—it's not hunting per se, I just need—"
Mereoleona scoffed. "Tch. Don't lie to yourself, girl." She tore off another chunk of meat with her teeth. "You've been circling this prey for years, sniffing around, but never taking the kill. It's pathetic."
Noelle's eye twitched. "I—excuse me?!"
"Don't get me wrong, I respect a patient hunt," Mereoleona continued, eyes gleaming in the firelight. "But there's a difference between waiting for the right moment and cowardice."
Noelle flinched.
Cowardice.
The word stung more than she wanted to admit.
The older woman smirked, as if sensing her hesitation. "You came to me for advice. So listen well, little royal—love means nothing to me. I have no use for it. But I do know how to hunt. And hunting is simple."
She leaned forward, her grin sharp and wild. "You see what you want. You take it. End of story."
Noelle swallowed. "But Asta isn't a thing to take—"
"Everything in life is about strength, Noelle Silva." Mereoleona's voice was a growl. "You either claim what's yours or you let it slip between your fingers. Which is it going to be?"
Noelle stared at the fire, her heart pounding.
Could it really be that simple?
Just—see Asta as prey? Something to take?
It felt… savage. Barbaric.
But strangely, it also made things much, much easier.
No more overthinking. No more doubting herself.
Just hunting.
Noelle inhaled sharply. Then she nodded.
Mereoleona grinned.
"Good," she said. "Then let the hunt begin."
—
Phase One: Stalking the Prey
Noelle had never thought about Asta in predatory terms before.
But the more she observed him, the more she realized why she had struggled for so long.
Asta was always the chaser—in everything. His dreams. His ambitions. His fights. He never stopped, never hesitated, never let himself fall behind.
That was why Noelle had never been able to confess.
Because he was always running ahead.
But now, things were different.
Now, she was the hunter, and he was the prey.
The first step of any hunt? Observation.
She had to study him, learn his habits, understand what drew him in.
So she began to watch him more closely—his training patterns, his eating habits, his preferences in everything from food to sparring partners. She already knew a lot, but now she analyzed it with the keen precision of a predator.
And soon enough, she learned a few interesting things.
For one—despite his usual denseness, Asta was incredibly reactive to physical contact.
She noticed it when someone would casually pat his shoulder or grab his wrist—his whole body would tense for a fraction of a second before relaxing. Not out of discomfort, but as if he wasn't used to it.
So that's where she started.
During training, she made more contact. Not enough to be suspicious—just a little more lingering than usual. A hand on his arm, a brush of fingers against his when passing something, a casual tap to get his attention.
The result?
Asta twitched. A lot.
And every time, he would give her a confused glance—like his brain was trying to process something unfamiliar.
Good.
She wanted him confused.
A confused prey was an easy target.
—
Phase Two: The Chase
The next step? Make the prey chase you.
Asta was competitive. He thrived in competition. So Noelle did something risky.
She provoked him.
Not with words—but with actions.
She started training even harder, honing her magic until she could push Asta back in spars. She brushed past him in hallways with just enough confidence to make his head turn. She laughed—really laughed—around him, showing him a side of herself she had always kept locked away.
And it worked.
Asta started noticing.
He watched her more. His gaze lingered. He got flustered when she got too close.
The hunter had turned into the hunted.
And Noelle—oh, Noelle relished it.
—
Phase Three: The Kill
The final step? Seal the deal.
She had spent years waiting for Asta to confess first. But now—now she wasn't going to wait anymore.
So one evening, after another intense spar, she made her move.
Asta was panting, sweat dripping down his toned chest, his shirt discarded after the match. He grinned at her, hands on his hips.
"Damn, Noelle! You're amazing!"
Noelle exhaled, stepping closer. "I know."
Asta blinked. "Huh?"
She took another step. "Asta."
Something in her voice made him freeze.
She was close now—too close. Close enough that he could see the way her violet eyes burned with intent.
"Asta," she repeated, quieter this time. "You know I've been watching you for a long time."
Asta gulped. "…O-Okay?"
Noelle reached up, trailing a single finger down his chest. He shuddered.
"I think it's about time," she murmured, "I stopped pretending."
Then she leaned in—and kissed him.
Asta froze.
Then, as if the realization finally hit—he melted into it.
Noelle smirked against his lips.
The hunt was over.
The prey was hers.
—
The day had finally come.
Noelle Silva—noble, warrior, hunter—was getting married.
The Black Bulls' hideout had never seen such chaos. Yami and Mereoleona had started an actual fistfight before the ceremony, Fuegoleon was trying to stop them, and Charmy had to be forcibly removed from the wedding cake before she devoured it.
But Noelle didn't care about any of it.
Because today, she won.
She stood at the altar in a breathtaking white gown, a silver tiara nestled in her hair, and a victorious smirk tugging at her lips.
Across from her, Asta—her prey, her partner, her everything—grinned like the overenthusiastic dork he always was. His usual messy hair had actually been combed (probably by Yuno), and his suit, while a little tight over his ridiculous muscles, made him look unreasonably handsome.
Asta looked at her with those shining green eyes, full of warmth and love, and Noelle felt an unfamiliar flutter in her chest.
She had spent years struggling, fighting, hunting him down.
And now—
He was hers.
The priest droned on, the words lost in the rush of adrenaline pounding in Noelle's ears.
Then finally—finally—
"You may now kiss the groom."
Asta barely had time to blink before Noelle grabbed his collar and yanked him forward, crashing her lips against his with a force that made the entire church gasp.
It was not a dainty, gentle, noblewoman's kiss.
It was a victory kiss.
Asta made a surprised sound against her lips before immediately melting into it, his arms instinctively wrapping around her waist. But just as he was about to take control—
Noelle grinned against his lips.
Not today, lover boy.
Without breaking the kiss, she bent down, hooked her arms under his legs, and lifted him clean off the ground.
Gasps erupted from the guests.
"What the hell?!" Yami choked, cigar falling from his lips.
"WOOOOO!" Mereoleona roared in approval.
"HAH?! Asta, are you okay?!" Yuno actually looked concerned.
Asta's brain short-circuited. "N-Noelle?! W-What—?!"
She pulled back, smirking. "You're mine, Asta. I'll carry you however I want."
And then, in front of the entire Clover Kingdom, Noelle Silva carried her new husband down the aisle bridal style, head held high in triumph, while the Black Bulls screamed and cheered behind them.
The hunt was over.
Noelle had won.