Spiraling
Intro: Ace would make for a very bad detective.
Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, proofread by quillbot, very bad words, kind of crack???, not yuu, not in heartslabyul reader so pick a different dorm, bad suicide jokes
A/N: Woah I am aliveeee and kind of kicking-ish. Sorry these are so slow, I was busy...studying (grinding for kinich's weapon because the weapon banner is my mortal enemy). For @xphantasmagoriax on my Fate, Destiny, and a Shit Ton of Mushrooms event.
Masterlist
“One. More. Word.”
“Trey senpai said he already has someone he likes—” smack! “Ow! ”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up!”
Dear sevens help you when the time comes; you can no longer restrain yourself, and it ends with the murder of one Ace “Dumbass” Trappola. It’s okay because your second cousin’s girlfriend’s aunt is a great defense attorney, so if you make it look enough like an accident…
“I don’t like that look on your face.”
“Shut up!” you hit Ace’s shoulder one more time for good measure.
The redhead shrugs and, perhaps out of what twisted sense of sympathy he has left, your stupid best friend pats your head (or maybe this is just his way of emphasizing your height). “It’s okay doofus, there’s plenty of fish in the sea,” you smack his hand away with a grimace. He just doesn’t get it. Trey isn’t just some guy you saw one day and decided, ‘that one, I want that one right there’. No, Trey is someone that the universe has linked you with; he’s the person who fate itself wants to be with you forever.
Trey Clover is your soulmate.
Who apparently wants absolutely nothing to do with you.
The first meeting was so cliche it made you want to throw up, but in a sense, it was a meet cute.
Just kidding. It was a meet disastrous.
The stack of ungraded potionology quizzes in your hand (Ace’s on the topmost with at least half the answers that you can vaguely guess as incorrect), a large crowd of rowdy teenage boys littering the hallway—it’s fairly obvious you’re unlikely to pass through unscathed. But being the stubborn person you are, you trudge onwards with little to no fear. Surely when they see you coming through with Crewel’s stuff, they’d be polite enough to make way for you and—
Of course not. How dare you assume that NRC students have even a modicum of decency? You tumble on the floor like a ball, papers flying everywhere.
And you’re saved from the fate of picking up each and every one by hand.
Magic flows through the air like a breeze, tinged with the smell of puff pastry. The papers float before ever reaching the ground, flying single file into a neat stack as your savior holds out a hand to you. Straight, silky locks of hair like ceremonial-grade matcha, pretty honey eyes that looked just as sweet when they reflected your figure. The man looks positively delicious, that’s for sure. You take his hand, and he pulls you back up to your feet. “Thank you,” you murmur in a daze, “you’re hot as fuck.”
…Wait, what?
He was about to hand you the pile of papers when he doubles over in laughter from your blunt words. Heat creeps up your face with many legs, like a spider of shame shooting your cheeks with webbing. ‘Shame on you, Y/N, how thirsty must you be to just hit on a random guy?!’
‘But I didn’t even mean to say that!’
Your inner war is quelled when the handsome guy gives you the stack of quizzes.
“Thanks, I’m flattered,” he grins, one eyebrow raised and the other arched. “I must admit, it’s not too often I hear compliments as straightforward.”
“You mean shameless?” What? Why would you say that?
You cover your mouth with a start. Words seem to be against you today, and you’d be damned if you spill out the rest of your thoughts to this dude who seems to already see you as a laughingstock.
Anyway, that was the day you found out that Trey Clover, the vice housewarden of Heartslabyul, was your soulmate.
Soulmates aren’t ridiculously uncommon, but they’re quite difficult to find. After all, the only way you’ll know if someone is your soulmate is by talking to them and trying to lie or keep something to yourself. When you realize you’re physically incapable of anything but telling the truth, that’s your soulmate.
The problem!
That short encounter was clearly not enough for your upperclassman to realize that you’re his soulmate. And you’re a coward. Lacking audacity if you will. In Ace’s words—
“Damn, why don’t you just stop being such a fucking pussy?”
You glare at him, “Meow, bitch. Shut the fuck up.”
So two weeks with no contact at all, only helpless pining. Ace swears up and down that you’ve become a stalker with how much you’re staring at the guy, which is why you’ve never told him that you have, in fact, stalked Trey’s social media accounts. And eventually you’re led down the path of thinking:
You should, like, totally make a move. Totally. But to be super duper extra sure that you even can make a move, you make use of your resident dumbass (who also happens to be in Heartslabyul) to scope out the enemy (read: your future husband).
And the ginger returns unvictorious.
Okay, you’re caught up now. On to real time.
Real time, you’re sulking because why is your soulmate in love with someone already?! It’s just not fair. 1 out of 20 people never meet their soulmate, and 5 out of 30 don’t even realize they’d met their soulmate until it was too late!
You’re apparently in that five out of thirty statistic.
You could approach him. Tell him you’re his soulmate. Would he choose you over that person that he already likes? Is a soulmate worth half as much as you’re making it out to be? There’s a pang in your heart; it hurts because the person you’ve been waiting for your whole life didn’t wait for you at all.
Were you not worth waiting for?
“I mean, he likes someone,” Ace speaks up, “but he never said he was in a relationship. You could still confess.”
Right.
Y/N YOU HOMEWRECKING SLU—
No no, you’re not a homewrecker yet. There’s still hope.
THERE’S NO HOPE!
You’re done for. You’ll live a long and lonely life because Trey Clover found someone he likes, and it’s just not you.
Ace seems genuinely dumbfounded at the sudden waterworks, but you can’t stop the tears when the realization sinks in. Tomorrow, it’ll be Valentine's Day, and you’ll be spending the day crying into a tub of half-melted ice cream because the other half of your heart is out there, and he’s probably [redacted] some other [redacted]. “He will rue the day he rejected me,” you mumble as you wipe your tears away on Ace’s jacket sleeve.
“Ew, gross! Get away!”
Fast forward, and your plans are ruined because the school does not give a fuck about whether or not your future ‘forever’ just DUMPED you. A Tuesday is still a Tuesday, and a Tuesday means ✨physical education with Coach Vargas✨. You trudge on over to the field in your fugly PE uniform, hair looking like it got swept through by a hurricane and deep bags under reddened, swollen eyes. You expect a rowdy scene upon your arrival: a teasing Ace, a worried Deuce, a laughing Grim, and a Yuu who’s very likely to push you right back into bed. You get—
“Y/N. I like you.”
Oh Ursula, Queen of Hearts, Jafar, all of the seven, please, please just kill me where I stand.
The prayer doesn’t work. The ground does not open up and swallow you whole.
In the middle of the field is your matcha-haired school senior, holding a large bouquet of ruby-red roses with a shy smile. Behind him is a large group of Caters; one is holding up a camera; the rest are holding up placards that spell out ‘Y/N x Trey Forever’ and truly, you’ve never felt so suicidal in your life than in this moment of public execution. You try to smile through your tears of shame, and when you try to speak niceties, you’re very rudely reminded of the soulmate thing.
“Wow. I hate it. I like you, senpai, but I hate your confession so much I want to cry.”
Anyway, it turns out Ace forgot to ask who Trey liked. But at least you won’t die alone?
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