#heartslabyul x reader

[lotuswish]

𑁍ࠬܓ how they react when they see you hurt (housewardens & jamil)

synopsis: pain is not something he ever wanted to associate with you. but seeing you injured—knowing someone dared to harm you—shatters his composure. for some, it’s rage; for others, panic. and for a few, it’s cold, terrifying control—until he knows you’re safe. but one thing is certain: someone will pay for this.

featured character(s): riddle rosehearts, leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto, kalim al-asim, jamil viper, vil schoenheit, idia shroud, malleus draconia.

content warning(s): angst, mentions of violence and implied revenge, mild injury descriptions (ex. bruises, wounds, pain etc.), spoilers for book 6 in idia’s part.

a/n: they’re just being silly, guys. <3

link(s): (masterlist)

riddle rosehearts

riddle prides himself on maintaining control.

his entire life has been shaped by discipline, by structure, by the belief that emotions must be ruled by logic. he does not allow himself to be reckless, does not allow himself to be overcome. everything he does is precise, calculated, deliberate.

but the moment he sees you hurt—

everything unravels.

his breath catches in his throat, his heart slamming against his ribs, his mind instantly abandoning all reason. his entire world sharpens to a singular point—you—and all at once, every ounce of restraint he’s spent years perfecting is hanging by a fragile, fraying thread.

“who did this?”

his voice is sharper than you’ve ever heard it, trembling with something raw, something dangerously close to rage.

he’s beside you in an instant, dropping to his knees without hesitation, his hands hovering—not touching, not yet, because what if he makes it worse? what if he hurts you somehow? his fingers tremble, itching to reach out, to make sure—

“tell me where it hurts,” he says, but his voice wavers. “tell me what happened.”

his hands are gentle but firm as he checks you over, his usually practiced movements clumsy with the weight of panic. he doesn’t even realize his breathing is uneven, doesn’t even notice the way his shoulders are shaking as he looks you over, as he takes in every bruise, every wound, every sign that something happened—

something he didn’t prevent.

“you should have been more careful,” he scolds, but the words come out thin, forced, like he’s trying to hold something else back.

you try to tell him you’re fine, try to brush it off, but he doesn’t believe you. his eyes flicker with frustration, his jaw tightening, his grip on your wrist just a fraction too tense.

“don’t be ridiculous—you’re hurt,” he snaps, and then immediately exhales, forcing himself to breathe. “just… stay still. let me handle this.”

he refuses to let you wave it away. refuses to leave it alone. you are not fine, and he will not let you convince him otherwise.

but even as he focuses on making sure you’re okay, something else burns at the edges of his mind, pressing against his temples like an unbearable weight—

who did this to you?

his hands clench into fists. his breathing evens out, but his posture remains rigid, coiled tight like a string about to snap.

because once you’re safe—once he’s certain that you’re okay, that you’ll recover, that he didn’t fail you—

then, and only then, will he deal with the one responsible.

his mother may have taught him restraint, but some things are unforgivable.

and hurting you is one of them.

leona kingscholar

danger.

his body registers it before his mind does, his instincts kicking in the moment his eyes land on you—hurt, vulnerable, not okay.

his vision tunnels, his pulse spikes, and suddenly, the world around him doesn’t matter anymore.

“what the hell happened?”

his voice is a low, guttural growl, thick with something dark, something uncontrollable. his hands clench at his sides, every muscle coiled, his body ready—ready to fight, ready to destroy, ready to eliminate whatever put you in this state.

but then he sees it—sees the way you’re holding yourself, the way your breath hitches, the way you flinch just slightly—and suddenly, the anger has to be forced down, swallowed like bile in the back of his throat.

because right now, you come first.

so he moves, closing the distance in a single step, his hands reaching for you before he can stop himself. his hands are gentle from the start, unusually so. these hands of his are capable of devastation, of turning flesh to dust, of summoning ruin with a mere touch. but against you, they are careful, restrained. the second he feels the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips, the tension in his hold eases, his hands softening, steadying you instead of breaking you.

“who did this?”

his voice is still dangerous, still thick with that barely restrained fury, but now there’s something else underneath it.

concern.

fear.

he hates how it makes his chest tighten. hates the way it lingers at the edges of his thoughts, nagging at him, clawing at something buried deep beneath his usual indifference.

he kneels in front of you, his sharp, emerald eyes scanning every inch of you with terrifying intensity. his fingers ghost over your injuries, his jaw clenched so tight you can hear his teeth grind together.

“tell me.” his voice is dangerous now.

and then—when you hesitate, when you try to brush it off, when you lie—

his patience snaps.

“don’t give me that.” his grip tightens just slightly, his expression darkening. “you’re hurt. don’t act like it’s nothing.”

there’s no room for argument in his tone. no patience for your stubbornness, no willingness to accept anything less than the truth.

if you try to keep it from him, if you refuse to say who’s responsible, then fine—he’ll find out himself.

because someone did this.

and once you’re safe—once he’s sure you’re okay, once he’s made damn sure you’ll recover—

then he’s hunting.

“stay here,” he mutters, standing to his full height, his tail flicking behind him in barely restrained aggression. “i’ll take care of it.”

and if you try to stop him?

his gaze flickers down to you, something sharp, something scorching, like the unrelenting heat of the desert sun at its peak—blistering, unforgiving, merciless.

“no one lays a damn hand on you and gets away with it.”

and then he’s gone, a storm of unbridled wrath, a lion on the hunt.

azul ashengrotto

azul is a man of careful calculations.

every word, every action, every decision he makes is deliberate. he has spent years crafting a persona of charm, wit, and effortless composure—one that allows him to stay in control, no matter the circumstances. he does not flinch, does not waver, does not lose to uncertainty.

but then he sees you hurt.

and suddenly, all of that control is gone.

his breath catches, his body locks up, and for one horrifying moment, his mind is utterly blank.

“you—what happened?”

his voice doesn’t sound like his own. it’s too sharp, too raw, lacking the usual smoothness he prides himself on.

he rushes to you without thinking, but the second he’s close enough to touch, he hesitates. his fingers hover inches above your skin, his knuckles white with the force of his restraint. his mind is screaming at him to act, to do something, but a terrible thought wedges itself into his panic—

what if i make it worse?

he doesn’t trust his own hands, doesn’t trust his own judgment, not when the sight of you like this is unraveling him from the inside out.

“tell me what hurts,” he demands, his words tumbling out in a way that’s almost frantic. “is it serious? how bad is it?”

his thoughts spiral immediately, jumping to the worst possible conclusions. is it critical? should he be calling for medical attention? what if you’re downplaying it? what if he’s not fast enough?

and then you try to brush it off.

“nothing?” he echoes, breath hitching. his voice almost cracks—and he hates that. “how can you say that when you’re—when you—”

his hands clench into fists, shaking slightly as he forces himself to breathe.

“just—just stay still,” he mutters, voice tight with strain. “i’ll take care of it.”

because if there is one thing he knows, one thing he can control, it’s fixing things. making deals. offering solutions.

“i’ll call a healer. i’ll get whatever you need—whatever you want.”

his words come too fast, his mind still racing, but through it all, his hands never leave yours.

his grip is too tight, fingers wrapped around yours like a lifeline, like letting go isn’t an option he’s willing to consider.

because if he lets go—if he loses you—

he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle it.

and when it’s over—when he knows you’ll be okay—he still doesn’t let you out of his sight.

“you scared me,” he murmurs, quieter than before.

his voice is steadier now, but you can still hear the remnants of his fear, lingering in the way his thumb brushes absentmindedly over your knuckles, in the way he exhales like he’s been holding his breath this entire time.

and for the first time since you’ve met him—since he built the persona of azul ashengrotto, the untouchable businessman, the man always one step ahead—

he lets you see just how fragile he becomes when it comes to you.

kalim al-asim

kalim is always smiling.

he is a beacon of joy, a burst of light in every room he enters. when things go wrong, he looks for the silver lining. when people are hurting, he lifts them up with his boundless energy. sadness is something he refuses to dwell on, something he fights against with warmth and laughter.

but when he sees you hurt?

his entire world stops.

“oh no, oh no—”

the words leave him before he can think, his breath catching as his heart lurches in his chest. he doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t pause to process what he’s seeing—his body moves, fast and instinctive, rushing to your side.

his hands cradle your face, warm and steady despite the frantic tremor in his touch.

“are you okay? what happened? does it hurt? how bad is it?”

his voice is shaking. he’s shaking.

and when he finally really looks at you, when he takes in the way you wince, the way you hold yourself like you’re trying to hide the pain—his chest tightens, his stomach twisting into something awful.

“why didn’t anyone stop it? why didn’t i stop it?”

guilt. overwhelming, suffocating guilt floods him like a tidal wave.

“i should’ve been there! i should’ve protected you!”

his grip on you tightens—not enough to hurt, just enough to let you know he’s here. he isn’t letting go. he won’t let go.

and then, before you can stop him—before you can tell him it’s not a big deal—his eyes start to glisten.

“kalim, are you—”

“i’m not crying!” he absolutely is. “i just—you scared me!”

his voice wobbles, and suddenly, he’s pulling you into a hug, arms wrapping around you too tightly, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“don’t move, okay? just stay right here! i’ll get someone to help—i’ll fix this, i promise!”

if it’s something small—just a minor scrape, a bruise—he still treats it like it’s life-threatening. he refuses to let you walk it off, refuses to let you act like it’s fine.

if it’s something worse? if you are seriously hurt?

he panics, but his movements are certain. without hesitation, he lifts you into his arms, holding you to his chest like you’re something precious, like you belong nowhere else but safe in his hands.

“i’ve got you,” he whispers, voice breaking. “i won’t let anything happen to you.”

and when he finally gets you to safety, when he finally knows you’re okay—

he still won’t stop fussing.

“you need to rest! do you want pillows? i’ll get you pillows! or tea! do you want tea? i’m sure jamil will—jamil! we need tea!”

“kalim, i’m fine—”

“no, you’re not fine! i was so scared!”

his fingers squeeze yours.

and later, when you’re patched up, when the worst of the moment has passed—

he presses his forehead to yours, closing his eyes.

“don’t ever scare me like that again, okay?”

his voice is softer now, the usual excitement dimmed into something deeply sincere.

“i don’t ever wanna see you hurt again.”

jamil viper

jamil was raised to handle crises.

he has spent his entire life being the one who steps in when things go wrong, the one who fixes things while everyone else panics. no matter the situation, no matter the chaos, no matter the pressure—he is always in control.

so when he sees you hurt, when he registers the way you’re holding yourself, the way your face twists with pain—

his stomach drops.

but his body moves on instinct.

“where?”

his voice is steady. too steady. his mind is screaming, but his tone doesn’t waver, his movements are calculated, precise. he crouches in front of you immediately, eyes scanning you with sharp, assessing precision.

“how bad is it? let me see.”

he doesn’t waste time. doesn’t ask what happened—not yet. because right now, the only thing that matters is making sure you’re okay.

his hands are warm but firm, brushing over you carefully as he checks for injuries. his fingers ghost over your wrist, your arm, the side of your face—everywhere that might be hurt—his touch gentle but filled with purpose.

“it’s not broken,” he murmurs under his breath, half to himself, half to reassure you. “no major swelling… does this hurt?”

and then—when you flinch, when you let out the softest hiss of pain—

something inside him snaps.

his jaw clenches. his breathing slows.

“who.”

his eyes flick up to meet yours, and for the first time, there is something dangerous in his gaze.

“who did this?”

if there is a culprit—if someone is responsible for this—then they are not leaving unscathed.

but even as fury thrums through his veins, even as his mind races with ways to handle the situation, he forces himself to prioritize you first.

“can you walk?” his voice is softer now, his tone slipping back into something controlled, something measured.

if you say yes, he doesn’t let you prove it. he supports you immediately, one arm around your waist, guiding you effortlessly as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

if you say no, he lifts you without hesitation. no warning, no asking—just picking you up, his hold secure, unshakable.

“don’t argue,” he mutters, barely sparing you a glance. “just let me take care of it.”

because he will.

and once he gets you somewhere safe, once he’s made sure you’re being treated properly, once he knows with certainty that you are okay—

then, and only then, does he allow himself to breathe.

“you’re reckless,” he mutters, his voice a mix of exasperation and something far too raw. “i don’t have time to deal with this every time you get yourself hurt, you know.”

but his fingers tighten just slightly where they rest against your arm, betraying the truth behind his words.

because if something had happened—if things had been worse—

he doesn’t even want to think about what he would have done.

vil schoenheit

perfection is vil’s standard.

not just in beauty, not just in his work, but in everything—his composure, his discipline, the way he carries himself. he does not allow himself to be reckless. he does not make careless mistakes. he does not let emotions rule him.

but then he sees you hurt.

and something inside him fractures.

his lips press together, his expression unreadable, his body rigid—the only betrayal of the storm brewing beneath his flawless exterior is the way his fingers tighten just slightly at his sides, the way his breath is a fraction too controlled.

“where are you hurt?”

his voice is steady. cold. clinical. but his eyes—his eyes—

they burn.

he crosses the distance between you in two strides, his gloved fingers already reaching for you. his touch is firm but delicate, brushing over your skin with the kind of precision only someone like him could possess.

“sit down.” it’s not a request. “don’t move until i’ve assessed the damage.”

you try to downplay it, try to insist that it’s nothing, but his sharp gaze cuts through you instantly.

“do not insult me by pretending this is fine,” he snaps, his voice sharp as glass. “you are hurt. i can see it. so let me handle it.”

his fingers ghost over your injuries, his touch meticulous, searching. he catalogues everything—the severity, the placement, the way you react when he presses too close.

he is silent as he works, but the tension in his shoulders speaks volumes.

“this never should have happened.” the words slip out low, almost a whisper, but the weight behind them is undeniable. “i should have—”

but he cuts himself off before he finishes the thought.

vil schoenheit does not dwell in should haves.

he fixes things. he prevents disasters before they happen.

but right now, all he can do is make sure you are okay.

“i’ll handle this,” he says smoothly, already preparing to tend to your wounds himself. “stay still.”

his movements are precise, every action perfectly executed—cleaning, bandaging, ensuring no imperfections remain. but his touch lingers just slightly longer than necessary, his fingers brushing over your wrist, your palm, the curve of your shoulder with a tenderness that is almost imperceptible.

and when it’s over—when you are properly cared for, when the worst of the moment has passed—he finally exhales.

“you worried me,” he murmurs, and it is softer now, less controlled, less rehearsed.

and then—just for a second—his fingers ghost against your jaw, tilting your face up toward him.

“i won’t let this happen again. not ever.”

his voice is gentle. his eyes are not.

because if anyone had a hand in this—if someone is responsible for this pain—

then they will regret ever daring to touch you.

idia shroud

idia doesn’t do well under pressure.

he was not built for high-stakes situations, for stress, for emotions so raw they leave no room for second chances. he hates unpredictability, hates chaos, hates not knowing what to do.

so when he sees you hurt—

his mind shuts down.

for a full second, he just stares, his breath caught somewhere in his throat, his fingers twitching but unable to move.

no, no, no, no, no—

his brain latches onto the worst possibilities immediately. how bad is it? is it fatal? what if you’re bleeding out? what if it’s internal? what if he doesn’t react fast enough?

what if he loses you?

his stomach twists violently, a familiar, awful panic rising in his throat, threatening to choke him.

because this—this exact fear—is something he’s lived through before.

he remembers the first time. the real first time.

losing ortho was something he never saw coming. something he never thought could happen. and even though he’s built him again, recreated him, brought back a version of his little brother—

he still remembers.

remembers what it felt like to be too late. to fail someone he loved. to stand there, frozen in horror, helpless to stop it.

and now—

now it’s you.

you, the only person who matters to him besides ortho. you, the person who understands him, who stays, who chooses him despite all the reasons not to. you, who has somehow become his entire world without him even realizing it.

“oh seven—okay, okay—don’t freak out—no, wait, i’m the one freaking out—”

he rushes toward you but stops short, his hands hovering inches away, shaking.

“w-wait, should i touch you? would that make it worse?? oh seven, what if i make it worse—”

his mind is short-circuiting. too many variables. too many possible failures.

“idia,” you start, but he whirls on you, wide-eyed and frantic.

“y-you have to tell me exactly how bad it is, okay? give me a numerical rating—no, no, wait, i don’t trust the pain scale, um—can you move?? do you need a doctor??”

his breathing is erratic, his fingers clutching at the edge of his hoodie like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

but then—just like before—you try to reassure him.

“i’m okay.”

he stops.

his whole body locks up, his mind struggling to catch up.

”…are you sure?”

his voice is so small. so uncertain.

because he’s already lost someone before.

and if he lost you too—if this was his fault, if he wasn’t fast enough, smart enough, good enough—

he doesn’t know what he would do.

even when he’s finally convinced that you’re not dying, he still refuses to leave your side. he hovers awkwardly, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve, clearly itching to do something to make himself useful.

so he does what he knows best—

“d-do you wanna lay down? i, uh, set up a recovery station in my room. blankets. snacks. medkits—y’know, just in case. w-we can watch something comforting, i won’t even complain about the genre. promise.”

his voice is still wobbly, still slightly frayed at the edges, but the tension in his shoulders finally eases when you nod.

and later—when you’re safe, resting, and no longer in pain—

his fingers brush against yours, hesitant, unsure, before finally intertwining them properly.

“never scare me like that again, okay?”

his voice is quiet. but this time, it doesn’t shake.

because he won’t lose you too.

he can’t.

malleus draconia

malleus has lived longer than most.

a century and more has passed since his birth. he has seen generations rise and fall, watched mortals grow old in the blink of an eye. nothing unsettles him. nothing disturbs his calm.

but then he sees you hurt.

and the entire world stands still.

his breath halts, and the air around him shifts—the very atmosphere bending beneath the weight of something primordial, something as vast and unrelenting as the storm-laden skies over the land of briar.

his first instinct is not panic.

it is rage.

“who did this?”

his voice is low, steady, but beneath the surface, something dangerous lurks.

his emerald eyes gleam, faintly glowing in the dim light. the shadows stretch taller, the wind outside stills, the very earth itself seems to pause, as if the land itself knows what kind of wrath is building within him.

his hands twitch at his sides, claws curling, magic crackling faintly at his fingertips—not for you, never for you, but for whoever was foolish enough to harm you.

but he stops himself. forces himself to breathe.

because you come first.

he is in front of you in an instant, his movements as fluid as shadow, his expression unreadable. his hands—hands that could command storms, reduce castles to rubble, shatter the very sky—reach for you with an almost unnatural gentleness.

“let me see,” he murmurs, his fingers ghosting over your injury, tracing the bruises, the cuts, the places where pain lingers.

his touch is featherlight, his movements precise, but beneath it all, his body is rigid with barely restrained fury.

“who did this?” he repeats, quieter now, but infinitely more terrifying.

if you don’t answer, if you try to downplay it, if you lie—

his gaze darkens, something thunderous in his silence.

“do not shield them from me.”

he is not so easily deceived. he sees the hesitation in your eyes, the way you waver, the way you avoid his gaze. if you refuse to tell him, it does not matter—he will find out on his own.

but first—

“hold still,” he murmurs, raising his hand.

a pulse of magic hums through the air, a whisper of ancient power curling around your form like a protective shroud. the ache dulls, the wounds begin to close, the pain fades.

“better?” he asks, softer now, something tender hidden beneath the weight of his fury.

but even as he tends to you, even as he ensures you are safe—

his mind is already elsewhere.

because someone hurt you.

and for that, there will be consequences.

malleus does not act rashly. he does not lash out blindly.

but the guilty party will know fear.

“stay here,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your cheek for just a fraction of a second, his touch lingering. “rest. recover.”

and then, as he turns, the air thickens, the weight of his presence pressing down like the hush before a storm, like the crackling stillness before lightning splits the sky.

because someone has made a grave mistake.

and if the gods are watching, they would be wise to offer their mercy—because malleus draconia will not.

congrats on making it to the end! if you enjoyed this, likes, comments, follows, and reblogs are always appreciated—they help motivate me to keep creating and sharing!

[cursedcola]

Prompt: Couples will evidently begin to mimic their better half after some time. What traits do you steal from him, and vice versa? Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Characters: Everyone - because I want to and I’m amidst fleshing out all my Yuu/Character dynamics + designs Format: Headcannons. Masterlist: LinkedUP Parts: Heartslabyul (Here) | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia A/N: Putting all my brain rot from my notes into something cohesive. Contrary to my love for ripping your hearts out, I've come with some fluff this time around. BTW you may or may not already do things mentioned - I write my works with a specific Yuu in mind for each character so this is based on them. Just a reminder.

Habits you steal:

Plan-Books (Inherited) : Riddle habitually carries a planner with all his tasks. A physical one, not an app in his cell phone like most students choose. You find it easier to manage and swap to paper-and-pen alternatives at his recommendation.

Tidiness (Inherited): Riddle is a nit-pickier when it comes to physical presentation. His habits of pressing his uniform, laying his clothes out every night, and dressing conservatively rub off. He has a point - ironed trousers do make a difference. Every morning he will redo your uniform tie. It's never knotted to his 'standard', and is his preferred excuse to greet you before class.

"Now, isn't that better? Surely you are more comfortable in ironed linens than those rags you'd been wearing as pajamas. You seriously found them lying in Ramshackle? Were you not given an allowance to buy basic needs? Ridiculous! The Headmaster's irresponsibility holds no bounds!" <- Utterly appalled that you've been sleeping in century-old robes. He supplies you with seven sets of pajamas, a spare uniform, and an iron + board for Ramshackle. All after reaming the Headmaster for neglect in the last dorm-head meeting - either Crowley coughed up the marks or Riddle will supply from his own bank. Seven have mercy if he chooses to become a lawyer instead of a doctor.

No Heels (Developed): Riddle has a height complex. He won't make a show of it, but you wearing heels does emasculate him. Especially if you're already taller naturally. For his sake, you choose to slay your outfits in flats.

"Are those new loafers? Oh - no, they're lovely. The embroidery is exquisite and I can see why Pomefiore's Housewarden models for their brand. I merely thought you preferred the heeled saddle-shoes we saw during the past weekend trip. I must have been mistaken. Never mind me. You look wonderful."

Playing Brain Teasers (Inherited): Riddle has this thing with memory - you don't know if he's really into preventing old-age Alzheimer's or what. He carries a book of teaser games like Sudoku, etc. for when he has downtime and you eventually get into them too.

"Oh! My Rose, would you care to join me for lunch? Trey's siblings recently mailed in a large collection of cross-words. You'll find they are both educational and entertaining - hm? I do not seem the 'type' for word-games? I assure you, even I can relax on occasion. There is no need to look so surprised." <- Riddle's been making a grand effort to do things he enjoys and become more personable. Trey's siblings did not send the collection. Riddle went into town and picked it out on his own. He also found a book on organizing excursions since he's big on quality time. He is dead-set on not being a neglectful or 'boring' partner.

Swear Jar (Developed): Tired of Riddle collaring Ace for his vulgar tongue, you suggest a Heartslabyul swear jar. When the jar gets filled, the money can be used to fund things like study materials and renovations for the dorm. Riddle liked this idea, but now implements it on anyone who sets foot in the Heartslabyul. Considering you spend most of your time there, you've had to develop a vast vocabulary beyond swearing. Oh - you also unironically use the word 'fiddlesticks' now.

Habits he steals:

Useless Expenses (Inherited): You are an enabler without a doubt. Riddle has always functioned with the bare bones - with function and efficiency being the number one priority. Ever so slowly - you've spoiled him with aesthetically pleasing stationary. At first all the needless purchases felt redundant - why buy the pillowcases with flowers when plain white is cheaper? You can invest in a higher quality this way. Yet you've ruined him with gifts that he had no choice but to use. Now he needs to buy the pens with little hedgehogs on them because studying doesn't feel the same with a plain ballpoint.

Slang Dictionary (Developed): With each passing day, all the students in Heartslabyul get more creative at bending the rules. That includes you. Riddle takes it upon himself to carry a 'little-black-book' full of all the sang words he is unfamiliar with. He does want to be a bit more 'hip' to understand you more, but at the same time he wants to bust any student being a smart-mouth. It's an ongoing battle *sigh*.

"Apologies, could you repeat that term for me? Surely it must be relevant to my lecture if you and Ace are whispering. 'Let him cook'? Do you think we are in a culinary lecture?! Have you not been listening to - ah. So it's in reference to letting me finish before interrupting...One moment. I need to make a note."

Chewing Gum (Developed): This is an ode to psychology. In short, eating is tied to a person's fight-or-flight. Instincts dictate that our bodies need to be in a calm state to eat comfortably. One day when Riddle was at his wits end, you tossed him a pack of sugarless gum and told him to chew. Disregarding Trey's unholy dental screeching, Riddle develops a gum dependence for when he's stressed out. On the bright side, his jaw has never been so sharp.

“Mimicry? You must be mistaken. Even if my influence has affected their person, surely there are only positive developments” == Riddle denies any changes if confronted. In truth, he’s well aware of how much you’ve helped him grow. It’s the opposite accusation that spikes concern. Riddle does not want others thinking you’re a mini-version of him. Rumors are not kind and neither is his current reputation. Making those amends is his burden to bare. He is flattered to see you paying attention to his mannerisms, and secretly proud that your bond is strong enough to affect the psyche.

Habits you steal:

Whistling (Inherited): Trey whistles while working in the kitchen or doing general chores around the dorm. He's not very loud with it, so not may students are bothered. Since you laze about in his shadow the tunes he goes through do become repetitive. Now you do the same when cleaning up Ramshackle. Grim wants to knock you both out because he can't take it anymore.

"Ah -- How'd you know it was me in here? Just because I bake for the un-birthday parties doesn't mean I live in the kitchen, you know. My whistling? Huh. Never thought that would be my calling card but there are worse things, haha"

Head-Scratching (Inherited): Trey's got a habit of scratching the back of his head when he's uncomfortable or nervous. That, or rubbing at the nape of his neck while adverting eye contact. You start doing this too whenever you're being scolded or put in a tough situation.

Dental Hygiene (Inherited): By far the most obvious shared trait. Trey enforces his dental habits onto everyone- you are no exception. You now own four different kinds of floss, two toothbrushes (one being electric), and have a strict hygiene routine. Your pearly whites have never been so clean. Eventually you become somewhat of a secondary enforcer, policing anyone who sleeps over your dorm to take care of themselves before bed. All of Heartslabyul learns that there is no going back when you scold Riddle for not brushing after his teatime tart, and live to tell the tale.

"Hey - uh, weird question? Were you handing out floss to the Spelldrive Team yesterday? Seriously? I though Grim was pulling my leg - oh, no! It's not weird at all! Those guys should have a better routine for all the meat they eat when bulking. I'm just shocked you got through to them." <- Very proud. Mildly cocky. He's been itching to get those negligent jocks to floss after their banquets his entire tenure, but steered away from that conflict like the plague. Thank you for making his dreams come true. Now if you could maybe get them to stop picking their gums with toothpicks?

Habits he steals:

Overbuying Food (Developed): Being a baker's son, Trey's good with finances and money. He's also meticulous with the ingredients he purchases for his bakes. You are not. You go to Sam's shop, buy whatever is on sale, and then bring it back home to improvise. This ends poorly more often than not, and behold! Trey has two Ramshackle sluggers snooping around his kitchen for eats. This is unpredictable and therefore he now never knows what amount to buy. You've ruined him.

Phone Calls (Developed): Texting is easier. Especially since phone calls can be a commitment that Trey dislikes being wrapped up in. Whenever Cater's name pops up as the caller, Trey knows he's getting an ear full. The thing is that you never. answer. your. phone. Either the text gets lumped in with the hundreds of missed messages you have, or Grim stole your cell to play mobile games. So Trey gives up and only ever calls. Either Grim will answer or you'll pick up thinking it's the snooze of your alarm.

"Hello? Prefect, where are you? It's me, Trey. Just calling to see if you're still coming to the Un-Birthday party? Riddle's getting a bit nervous since the schedule's set for the next hour. Grim's already here with Ace and Deuce - uh, want Cater to send a double to pick you up? I have a sinking feeling that you're asleep...Call me? Please?" <- He was correct. You called back not a moment after, half-asleep and hauling ass not to be late.

Speaking in Propositions (Inherited): Trey's normally good at keeping neutrality in a conversation, but getting a clear answer out of Yuu you is like solving a rubix cube. Either it's easy and instant, or a long game. Eventually your habit of indecisiveness rubs off on him and he asks questions more than answers them. Evidently this gets his younger classmen to stop asking for favors unless they really need to.

“Aha - really? I didn’t notice at all. Okay. Okay, I picked up on a few hints. What’s so wrong with them taking after me? It’s cute, right?” == Trey is the observant sort that picks up on his influence quickly. Not just anyone carries floss in their pocket at all times - and the looks from his dorm-mates when you offer some up is enough for the realization to click. Trey’s used to playing the respectable sort, and finds it endearing that you’re taking his good notes to heart. In truth, most of Trey’s mimicry is intentional. He’s a flexible guy who doesn’t mind altering his habits to fit your needs. Easier this way, y’know?

Habits you steal:

Speaking in Acronyms(Inherited): Now this is scary. The first time it happened, you had to take a pause and just re-evaluate your entire life. You don't use them nearly as often as Cater does, but somewhere along the line your brain must have rewired to speak in internet lingo. O-M-G you're TOTALLY twinning with him right now, period :)

Nicknames (Inherited): Again, frightening. You once swore against ever calling him Cay-Cay. It isn't very slay-slay. Yet you can only hear him use nicknames for so long until you're unconsciously calling people by them too. Especially since he's always dishing gossip. It starts in your head, which is fine. It's not like they know. Then you call Lilia 'Lils' and that old fart is just grinning behind his sleeve because ohoho~ young love <3

"Did you just- AHA! OMG DO IT AGAIN?! Wait, gotta get my camera out for this - wha? Oh, that's totes not fair! C'mon. Call me Cay-Cay. Just once! I won't even post it to Magicam, please? Lils won't believe me without proof! Pleasssssseeeee - " <- He actually doesn't want you to call him Cay-Cay all the time. Cater likes you using his given name, since it's more personal. Although the way it obviously slipped out on accident is just too cute to ignore.

Reality TV (Inherited): At first you don't like the gossip. It's cheesy, a bit annoying, and the shaky camera-work for nearly every show is headache inducing. Cater likes his dose of drama in his free-time, and Ramshackle has a tv that no one is using. It starts with him watching while you do other things around the dorm. Yet each time you pass the living area, you take longer to leave. Lingering around like one of the ghosts. Then he pulls you in with snacks and starts giving the low-down of what's going on, pulling out a bottle of tangerine shimmer polish to paint your nails. It's just one episode, watch it for him? Please? Oh no. No. No. Suddenly you're invested in who's the baby-daddy of little Ricky and what Chantel is going to do because her sister just lost the house to foreclosure.

"#KingdomOfDeadbeats - am I right? Ugh. I'm so glad we met if that's the dating scene back home...What?! I know it isn't real! Don't be a dummy, I was just joking! Ah! Stop! Don't hit me!" <- Half-hearted jokes about going on one of those talk-shows one day. You're an alien, after all - imagine the juicy drama and views his account would get from doing an interview? It's all jokes though. Cater likes spilling the tea, but hates being it. Don't ever abandon him and go out for milk though, kay? He doesn't want to pay Grim's child support. Otherwise he might have no choice smh

Habits he steals:

Phone/Web Games (Inherited): Cater's phone is mainly full of social media. He's not too into the gaming scene, it's not his peeps y'know? Alas, you download a few dress-up games and one MMO on his phone. First off - props on getting his phone. That's Cay-Cay's lifeline and not just anyone gets to play with it. Pray tell - what is this Wonderstar Planet (props if you know what is being ref.) and how can he become the most influential digital streamer on it? Congrats. He's addicted.

"Who's this Muscle Red and why's he bombing our raid - AH! He just tea-bagged me! So not cool...Prefect? STOP LAUGHING WE HAVE BETS ON THIS MATCH! There goes my collab opportunity, big fail" <- Muscle Red continues to make an appearance. Eventually he becomes Cater's official rival on stream, and Lils is all to invested in the tea cater drops during club meets. Side note. You're the one who gave 'muscle red' Cater's domain code. The lore thickens.

Internet Caution (Developed): This goes without saying, but Cater's well-known in the Magicam scene. He's very forward and knows his way around using charisma. Since you're not in the scene as much, he becomes more cautious of where and when he does streams. The change is so subtle that only the most observant people will pick up on it - but Cay-Cay doesn't want any creepos popping in if y'know what I'm saying. His sisters were the ones to instigate this change.

“Awe~ SRSLY?! That’s fresh news to my ears but good, right? Ne, are there any clips or pics? I need my evidence, y’see. Especially if my cutie is off taking notes from their one and only. C’mon, spill the tea!” == Cheeky Cater is well aware of what’s happening. He’d humor anyone out for some light teasing - after all, he isn’t by your side at all hours. His walls are probably the second most difficult in all of campus to bypass, so he’s both sweetened and nerved to see you picking up on his mannerisms. That’s proof of a strong attachment, after all.

Habits you steal:

Knuckle Cracking (Inherited): Deuce still does this from his biker days. It could be because joint pain from past fights, or possibly air retention in his knuckles from studying. Regardless, Deuce cracks his knuckles at least once every few hours and you began to mimic him. Some people groan at the popping sounds but it really does feel good to release the tension. Let's just hope neither of you dislocate any fingers on accident.

"Stop that! G-geez, you nearly gave me a heart attack. Thought you broke a finger...your hands are stiff? That just means you're studying a lot! I think...uh, let's break? I think there's some leftovers in the kitchen." <- Deuce 100% gets needing to pop those air bubbles. His hands get stiff from studying all the time, but don't crack them too much or you might dislocate something. Side note - he shows you how to wrap your fingers with a soothing salve. He used to do it after fights, but now it's a great help after class.

Double Notes (Developed): Deuce tries. He really does. Yet the lad just isn't great when it comes to book smarts. Seeing that he is dedicated to turning over a new leaf, you make a habit of copying all your notes. He isn't allowed to share them with Ace or Grim - else all bets are off. Sometimes you leave little 'good job' stickers on the last page for him. Is he a toddler? No. Does he peel the stickers off and save them? Totally. He is a good noodle. Suck it Ace.

Sewing (Developed): He breaks things. Most of the time it's an accident. You've learned to carry a mini-sewing kit for all the rips in Deuce's uniform. Same for mini remedies for stains and other problems. It's not like he's trying to get grass stains all over his under-shirt or to split the seam in his gloves (nearly every week). It just happens, and every time he comes to you with a kicked-puppy look with a promise of it being the last time. It is never the last time.

"Uhm...hun'? It happened again. I'm so sorry for bothering you but Housewarden is going to kill me if he sees the tear in my blazer! Can you fix it?! I can't handle another collar with my exam tomorrow! I need to breathe to focus! - really!? I owe you one! Snacks are on me tonight."

Habits he steals:

Bottomless Stomach (Developed): Have leftovers from dinner? Bring them over. He'll get the tubba-ware back in 1-2 days. Coupon for buy-one-get-one at Sam's? He'll take the extra and polish it off in less than a minute. Deuce becomes a human garbage disposal and is taking the unwanted condiments off your sandwich to eat. Just pick them off and leave 'em on the corner of his lunch plate. Even if he dislikes it, he'll down it so you don't have to.

"Mm. Oh, thanks hun' - its that all you're eatin'? You don't like the steam bun? It is a bit dry, but wasting food is disrespectful to the cooks! I'll finish it for you so have my fruit instead. You still need to eat" <- 10/10 very thoughtful and not picky at all. He is grateful to eat your cooking and will gobble up all leftovers at Ramshackle, but doesn't think twice to sharing meals in the cafeteria. He will notice though if you do not eat enough. Restocks the snack cabinet if he sees it's empty. Is touched if you routinely share things you know he enjoys, like saving half your frittata on purpose.

Early Riser (Inherited): See - even if you hate the mornings, there is no choice at Night Raven College. As Ramshackle Prefect you need to be up to take care of business before class. Deuce becomes your personal alarm clock because he wants some time with you before everyone else joins in. Mind you that he lives with three other dudes who threaten to end him every morning because his alarm wakes them up too. Eventually he can wake up without it, but the time leading is unpleasant.

"W-what? Seriously? I've been trying to be more like them! They're a good person and responsible so I've been trying to follow their example. To think we've been doing the same thing this entire time...." == Why would you ever imitate him? He's been trying his damn best to become an honor student worth respecting, and has a long way to go. To think you're comfortable enough with him to mimic his mannerisms? It's a pipe dream, one he doesn't grasp until it's put right in front of his face. You don't let anyone else pick off your plate other than Grim. The next time his clothes tear, he's already handing off his tie before realizing just what's happening. When you wrap his knuckles after a six-hour lock in at the library? He can't help but feel proud at how neat the bandages are. Suddenly the dark memories of hiding bruised knuckles from his mom are pacified with healing balm. Deuce views this development as a gift, and is grateful. Very, very grateful.

Habits you steal:

‘I owe you’ cards (Inherited): Ace's favorite social invention - the 'solid'. Nothing spells new-low like getting your friends to do stuff in exchange for a favor in the future. Most of the time Ace counts on people forgetting he owes them one, but you're not so gullible. The only difference between you both is that while Ace never fulfills his solid, you have a conscience. Give it a few more years. He'll get ya.

"I know this is the third ticket this week but - Oh! C'mon, cut a guy some slack, would you? I'm sorry for bein' late to our date. Yeah, it was shitty. I'm not trying to fight it, aright? I'm here now so let's have some fun and you can chalk three strikes on my tab. I'll even buy ya some candy - Ah! Okay! Two candies but that's where my charity ends!" <- Evidently, the 'I-owe-you' tabs cancel each other out from how often you both call in favors. It's just an excuse to do acts of service or express apologies without being too mushy. Ace is definitely keeping a track record of them though. Expect an ongoing log that dates back to the week you met, when he showed up homeless, collared, and looking to couch surf.

Profanity (Inherited): Ace swears like a sailor. Maybe not so much in his dorm because *cough* he's being policed. He holds no such reservations when you're both alone at Ramshackle. Unfortunately his potty mouth has a mind of it's own - it taints you, and you are a sham of a prefect. Ace earned a week-long collar for teaching you some Twisted-Wonderland exclusive curses. Riddle is not pleased.

Leaving the Windows Unlocked (Developed): There are only so many times he can sneak in through your window before the adrenaline-induced charm wears off. You have class in the morning, and can't be bothered to deal with him on nights he can't pass out in his dorm. Thank seven you have all of Ramshackle to yourself - because Heartslabyul sounds like a nightmare with the roommate situation. You can't leave the front door open for obvious reasons, but most nights the guest-bedroom window will be left slightly ajar in case he needs a place to crash.

"Pssst! Oi! Prefect! ...ugh, Grim! Wake them up, man! The latch is stuck. Don't go back to bed you furball! HEY! IT'S FREAKIN COLD OUT HERE SO LET ME IN ALREADY" <- Please let him in. If Ace has to spend one more night in that stinky dorm with three dudes, he'll string one of their dirty gym socks over your bed. No mercy.

Sleeping with Earplugs (Developed): Bitch Ace snores.

Habits he steals:

Notes Memo (Developed): Ace is bad with remembering things. Anniversaries? Dates? Allergies? He admits to not putting in a great amount of effort, but you can't say he doesn't try at all. He has a notes block on his phone dedicated to things like your go-to takeout orders and preferences. He even has a few alarms set days before any important events because even if you say no-gifts or plans...yeah, he's not that stupid.

Excessive Yawning (Inherited): You're always tired - it wasn't Ace's problem before but now he does feel a bit guilty. Dragging you into his messes felt different when you were just the prefect, y'know? Regardless, it's human instinct to mimic each other's demeanor so he'll openly yawn all the time - normally in succession of you.

"Hey...you're dozing off again. Am I seriously that boring to hang around? - Nah. Just messin' with you. I'd suggest taking a nap during next period but I doubt a goody-goody like you is gonna take that advice. Let's just ditch juice at lunch and go back to the dorm. Don't get mad if I forget to wake you up though"

Medications (Developed): Ace is the last person to become a human apothecary, but he's always got a pack of pain-reliever meds in his pocket with a few bandages, etc. He also attached one of those tiny capsule bottles to his keyring with some stomach meds inside. You took a spill running laps? Dang man. That sucks. Here's a band-aid for your knee. Curse you for making him the slightly-more responsible one.

"Eh..what, like it's a shock? You saying I'm a bad influence? Cause yeah, that checks. Nothin' I can do if they want to take a card outta my deck though," == Ace is entirely neutral on the topic. He is definitely smug that you're coming over to the dark side, but he doesn't need anyone to point it out. He was your first after all. Maybe the start could have been a bit better - but hey, you came around. It's not like he's hurting anyone by helping build your backbone. Although Ace will instantly deny going soft for you in any way, shape, or form.

[solxamber]

Giving Them Chocolates on Valentine's Day with: Heartslabyul

Go here for other dorms

Riddle Rosehearts

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself as you approach Riddle. He’s seated in the Heartslabyul garden, engrossed in a book, completely unaware that his life is about to change forever.

Your hands are sweating. Fantastic. Nothing says “I love you” like handing someone a heart-shaped box drenched in pure nervousness.

“Riddle,” you say, voice admirably steady despite the chaos in your soul.

He looks up, eyes widening slightly at your presence. “Good afternoon. What brings you here?”

You very calmly thrust the box toward him like a knight presenting a sacred relic. “Happy Valentine’s Day. I made this for you.”

The change is immediate.

Riddle freezes, his entire face flaring up like a traffic light on its final warning. His fingers twitch as he hesitantly accepts the box, staring at it as if you’d just handed him the crown of a foreign kingdom.

“You… made this? For me?” His voice is slightly higher than usual. The poor guy is barely holding it together.

You nod, feeling your heart slam against your ribs. “Yeah. And, um… I like you. A lot.”

For a second, you’re terrified he might actually faint. His ears are burning, his posture unnaturally stiff as he processes your words in real time. You can practically see the gears in his head jamming.

Then, slowly, carefully, he sets the box on the table beside him, takes a breath, and stands.

And before you can react, he takes your hand in his, bows slightly, and presses the lightest, most delicate kiss against your knuckles.

It’s so soft. So warm. So utterly, devastatingly polite—yet scandalously romantic—that your brain completely short-circuits.

He lifts his gaze to yours, still impossibly red but full of something achingly genuine. “I… accept your feelings,” he murmurs, his grip on your hand tightening just slightly. “And I—I… I like you as well."

You’re gone. This is too much. His flustered sincerity should not be this cute.

Riddle clears his throat, attempting to compose himself—but he absolutely fails because his blush is creeping down his neck now. “A-Anyway. Shall we have tea together? I’d… like to enjoy this properly.”

You nod, still speechless.

Somehow, this went even better than expected.

Trey Clover

You’re standing in an empty classroom, clutching your carefully wrapped box of chocolates like it’s a lifeline. The room is quiet, save for the faint ticking of the clock and the absolute hurricane of nerves raging inside you.

Trey stands across from you, looking as effortlessly cool and put-together as ever, the picture of someone who probably never panics over something as simple as chocolate. Which is unfair, actually, because you’ve been agonizing over this moment.

“I, uh…” You swallow hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “I made these for you. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Trey blinks in surprise before his expression softens into something warm. “Oh?” He takes the box with careful hands, like it’s something precious. “You made these yourself?”

You nod, but you can’t bring yourself to watch him open it, your stomach twisting into a knot. “Yeah. I know they’re probably not as good as what you make, but—”

“You’re nervous.”

You flinch when you feel the lightest touch under your chin, his fingers tilting your face up. You hadn’t even noticed him stepping closer.

Your breath catches when you meet his eyes. They’re so gentle, full of something soft and unreadable, and suddenly, this moment feels a lot bigger than just some chocolates.

“You really think I’d compare this to something I bake?” he murmurs, his thumb brushing just below your eyes before dropping away. “You made this for me. That alone makes it special.”

Your heart is going through it.

“I—” You swallow, trying to gather your thoughts before you combust. “Trey, I like you. That’s… that’s why I wanted to do this.”

There’s a small pause. And then—his smile.

It’s real, not his usual easygoing grin but something genuine, touched, and just a little bit shy.

“I like you too,” he says, his voice warm as honey.

Oh. Oh.

You barely have time to process it before he straightens up, still holding the chocolates in one hand while the other slides into his pocket. “Come on,” he says, nodding toward the door. “Let me walk you back.”

You blink. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” His smile quirks at the edges, teasing now. “Gotta make sure you don’t run off before I can ask you out properly, right?”

Your heart is doomed.

Cater Diamond

You find Cater in a quiet hallway between classes, leaning against the wall and idly scrolling through his phone. The second he notices you approaching, he perks up, flashing you an easy grin.

"Hey, hey! Fancy seeing you here." His eyes flicker down to the heart-shaped box in your hands, and his grin turns teasing. "Ooooh, what’s this? Someone’s got a Valentine?”

Your stomach is doing backflips. But you force yourself to hold out the box, pretending you’re not dying inside.

“For you,” you manage, voice steady despite the heat creeping up your neck.

Cater blinks. Once. Twice. His usual playful energy pauses, just for a second.

“For me?” His voice is light, but there’s something in it—something careful. “Like… me, me?”

You nod, heart hammering. “Yeah. I like you, Cater. That’s… why I made them.”

And for the first time ever, you see Cater Diamond speechless.

He just stands there, staring at you like you’ve just told him the greatest plot twist of the century. Then, all at once, his grin returns—brighter, realer, and just a little bit unsteady.

“You’re serious?” He lets out a breathless laugh, shaking his head like he can’t believe it. “Like, you—out of everyone—actually like me?”

“Obviously?” You shift the box toward him, raising a brow. “You gonna take these or what?”

The teasing snaps him out of it, and he laughs, reaching forward to grab the chocolates and, in the same movement, presses a quick kiss to your cheek.

Your brain blue-screens.

“There,” he says, still grinning as he pulls back. “A little thank-you for totally making my day.”

You open your mouth—whether to yell, combust, or actually form words, you’re not sure—but he’s already linking his arm with yours, spinning you both toward the exit.

“Sooo, where do you wanna go for our first date?”

“What—wait, first date?”

“Duh!” He holds up the chocolates with a wink. “You confess, I accept, we date—it’s the natural order of things.”

An absolute success.

Ace Trappola

You don’t even get the chance to find Ace before Ace finds you.

"Whoa, what’s this?" His voice is all mock innocence as he suddenly appears at your side, eyes locked onto the box of chocolates in your hands. He gasps, pressing a hand to his chest like he’s just witnessed a scandal unfold. "No way. You? Giving out chocolates? Some poor soul's gonna get victimized today."

You narrow your eyes at him. "Victimized?"

"Yeah, y'know—" He gestures vaguely, rocking back on his heels. "Swept up, led on, utterly ruined for anyone else. Tragic, really."

He’s dying of jealousy. You can see it. Feel it. Smell it in the air like cheap cologne.

You roll your eyes, already fed up. "Well, if you’re so concerned, maybe I should just eat them myself."

Ace laughs. "What, you’d steal your own chocolates? That’s cold."

"Not really, considering they were meant for you."

Silence.

Ace stares at you, frozen mid-smirk. His brain just blue-screened. You can see the processing bar loading at 2% completion.

"...Huh?"

You sigh, shifting the box in your hands. "I made them for you, dumbass. But if you don’t want them, I guess—"

You don’t get to finish that sentence because suddenly, Ace is clutching the box to his chest like it’s the last treasure on earth.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, back up—who said I didn’t want them? I want them!" He’s grinning now, the brightest, cockiest, happiest grin you’ve ever seen on him. "You serious? You really made these for me?"

You cross your arms. "Yeah. But you’re being a brat, so I kinda regret it now."

"Nah, too late! No take-backs!" He laughs, shaking his head like he can’t believe it. Then—softer, realer, a little bit breathless— "You really like me, huh?"

You hesitate, suddenly flustered under the weight of his gaze. "...Yeah."

His fingers tighten around the box. "Good. 'Cause I like you too."

Your breath catches.

Ace tilts his head, there’s a warmth in his eyes now—something soft, relieved, like he’s been waiting for this. "Thought you’d never notice, y’know? Been here the whole time, just waiting."

You scoff, rolling your eyes to cover how fast your heart is beating. "And yet you were so ready to tease me about it."

"Of course!" He throws an arm around your shoulders, grinning like he’s just won the lottery. "What kinda boyfriend would I be if I didn’t mess with you at least a little?"

"Boyfriend?!"

"Uh, yeah? You confessed, I accepted, now you’re stuck with me forever. Basic math."

Mission accomplished (You think?)

Deuce Spade

It’s just another casual hangout, nothing out of the ordinary—except for the heart-shaped box of chocolates you’ve been hiding behind your back like it’s a live explosive.

Deuce is sitting on your couch, totally unaware of the internal chaos happening mere feet away. He’s relaxed, chatting about his day, but the second you clear your throat and step forward, he pauses mid-sentence, sensing danger.

"Uh… you good?" he asks, blinking up at you.

"Yeah. Fine. Totally normal." You inhale, ignore the full-body cringe threatening to consume you, and hold out the box. "This is for you. Happy Valentine’s Day."

Deuce freezes. Like, actually freezes.

His eyes dart between you and the chocolates like he’s trying to make sure this isn’t some cruel prank. His hands are shaking just a little when he reaches out, carefully accepting the box like it might disappear if he blinks too fast.

"You—" His voice cracks, and he immediately clears his throat, ears burning red. "You made these? For me?"

You nod, trying so hard to play it cool. "Yeah. I like you, so… yeah."

For a second, nothing happens. Then—his grin.

It’s shy, just a little wobbly, but so ridiculously bright that your stomach does a full gymnastics routine.

"You… like me," he repeats, as if he needs to say it out loud to believe it.

"Unless you don’t want them, in which case, I can just—"

"No!" He clutches the box to his chest like it’s his most prized possession. "No way, I—I want them. I just—" He exhales, a little breathless, still grinning like an idiot. "I can’t believe this is happening."

You barely have time to process that before he straightens up, determination flickering in his eyes.

"Can I—" He swallows. "Can I take you on a date? I mean, since you—since we—" He gestures vaguely at the chocolates, too flustered to form a proper sentence.

You laugh, heart so stupidly full. "Yeah, Deuce. I’d love that."

His breath catches. Then he nods—fast, like he’s locking it in before reality can take it away. "O-Okay. Cool. Great. I’ll—I'll plan something good, I promise."

You grin. "I’d expect nothing less."

Deuce beams.

He looks down at the chocolates again, still holding them like the most precious thing in the world.

And honestly? You think this might be the best decision you’ve ever made.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[jangmi-latte]

ace loves cherries so he definitely knows how to tie a cherry stem with his tongue right???? RIGHT?????? A THOUGHT FOR THOUGHT??????

he'd he'd he'd he'd he'd stare off into space during lunch or during an unbirthday party and you just see his lips moving around. he's just leaning on his cheek or he's leaning back on his chair so you're entranced and curious on what he's doing. you'd probably just listen to deuce say his stories and ace is just, "mhm..." "yeah." while his mouth sounds full.

and then later on you'd see him shift and stick his tongue out so boredly—picking up or spitting out the tied cherry stem back on the plate. AND HE DOES THIS HOW MANY TIMES EVERY TIME HE EATS CHERRY TARTS SO SO YOU'RE JUST???? JUST????

AND EITHER HE KNOWS OR HE'S JUST AS OBLIVIOUS THAT YOU'RE ATTRACTED BECAUSE HNGH—

brb i'm gonna ✍️✍️✍️✍️✍️

[honey-milk-depresso]

Heartslabyul: what makes you “the most beautiful being on earth” to him

HAHAH- I HAVE RETURNED (somewhat-) FROM THE DEAD >:DDDD

How long has it been?? Two years maybe?? Idfk, AND IDC IM BACK (for now-)

Ace Trappola

He thinks you’re the most beautiful being your laugh makes him laugh too.

Ace, as well all know, a bit of a clown, really. He likes doing stupid shit and making stupid jokes that really makes people crack up and laugh sometimes, intentionally or unintentionally.

But something about the way you laugh makes him laugh along. Like yeah, it was kinda stupid huh? But now he doesn’t have a reason to be annoyed or mad about it because you made it feel better. All because of the way you sound when you laugh to him (even when it’s a little gremlin laugh).

One time, he tripped over a pebble in the Heartslabyul rose garden, face first as he cursed slightly with a grouchy face. He was upset and annoyed at first, but then you laughed. Somehow… the fall from him tripping wasn’t so bad.

In fact, it made him think it was pretty funny (in a stupid way) as he slowly laugh along as he got up. He gently squished your cheeks in a teasing manner. “Alright, alright. You’re not telling anyone I tripped as stupid like that!” He huffed with smirk as you continued laughing gleefully.

He smiled softly, cheeks slightly warm as he looks at you. You’re everything he could ask for. <3

Deuce Spade

He thinks you’re the most beautiful being because of your patience and dedication to help him.

Deuce is… a bit dumb. Sometimes, not all the time. When he’s really trying his best to do math or stay awake during Trein’s classes and then wakes up to the end of it and realised he’s suddenly three chapters behind.

Coming to Ace or Grim for help is not the best, and Trey, Cater and Riddle make it feel like studying and asking for this kinda help is tiring and a bit demoralising sometimes despite his fierce determination.

But you… it’s a lot different. You’re so patient and dedicated to help him: using your free time to help him catch up when you could’ve just said no and enjoy your break, pulling all-nighters with him with snacks from Trey-senpai to keep awake and study with him, lending him your notes while helping him go through what he’s missed…

Deuce kinda feels bad for asking you for help. You’re always putting him before yourself that at one point of time he tried finding somebody else, only to realise that you genuinely like helping him which never fails to make his cheeks flushed and heart constrict. If you ever need help, you can count on him too, he’ll do his best for you! <3

Cater Diamond

He thinks you’re the most beautiful being because he can be “low energy” with you.

Cater’s always that chatty, social butterfly on Magicam and in real life, mostly when he’s in front of people.

But sometimes, he just wants to just stay low and not be that “hype man” people known him for and without them being disappointed when he’s not that.

When it comes to you, he can just be. It’s like you give of this welcoming and accepting presence and aura, that it makes he can just lie down with you on a beanbag in his room, being lowkey with his hair down, in normal, ugly home wear and he knows, you wouldn’t judge.

Cater likes a change of pace despite usually being so active, it’s just so he can chill and recharge.

He has his arms wrap around you, and for once, his phone is tucked away just for the moment. He rests his chin on your shoulder and sigh, grinning with content as he closes his eyes.

Yes… this is nice… <3

Trey Clover

He thinks you’re the most beautiful being to him is because he can be as playful as he wants.

His reason is practically the same as Cater’s but opposite: is that he always had to be that responsible, reliable, no-nonsense Vice Dorm Leader of Heartslabyul. Even when he’s mastered the arts of it, it can still be tiring.

But you help him get into his own true (somewhat) colours, whenever you’re alone with him in the kitchen, he lets his walls come down.

Trey’s actually a lot more mischievous and cheeky than he lets on: smearing frosting on your nose, pretending he’ll feed you a tart only to put it all in his mouth and watch you get all huffy, and when he’s really loose, has a bit of a flour fight with you.

It’s really a break for him, how you make him feel like he doesn’t need to be guarded, at least with you. He doesn’t need to be that picture perfect reputation he’s built and he could just be.

Although Trey still keeps himself level-headed and what not, he’ll slyly slip in a prank or two and knows you’ll do it back to him behind closed doors.

Trey has never smiled this much in a long while, be this loose in a long while… and it’s solely because of you. <3

Riddle Rosehearts

He thinks you’re the most beautiful being in the world because you make him experience what it’s like to have child-like joy.

For all his life, Riddle’s childhood was… not childhood. Being raised by his strict mother, his days, weeks, his whole life being planned and never allowed what he really wanted to do, Riddle’s life was undoubtedly quite pitiful and dull.

And that being said, him being a dorm leader and all makes him feel that he should live up to a prim and proper role model to his fellow dorm mates, forcing himself to be uptight and obey all the rules and never to play around.

Not to say, he foolishly does so but it’s also not fair for him to deprive himself like this.

And then you came along, and showed him a world where no matter what age you are, you can dream big, with your wildest imagination. He’s really only experienced that when he was a child when he played with Trey and Chenya before his mother found out and made it bitter.

Little by little, he took baby steps with you to slowly explore what was kept away from him: going to festivals with you, trying out food he’s never had before… it’s incredible, really, how much he doesn’t know when he felt like he should’ve much earlier.

It’s pure joy for him, and he has never been this happy before… he’s so glad you came to this world because you were the happiness he was searching for so long. <3

reblogs help! ^^

[yuu-kantokusei]

Happy New Year✨️🎈🎊

Story: Yuu and Grim spend their New Year with each dorm + Ramshackle dorm

Reader is Yuu

TW: none, just wishing a good and healthy year🎉

❤️Heartslabyul🖤

The New Year’s celebration at Heartslabyul was in full swing, and Yuu could hardly believe the amount of effort that had gone into it. The rose garden sparkled with fairy lights, red and white roses seemed to glow in the moonlight, and the long tea table was adorned with an array of pastries, tarts, and steaming teapots. The decorations were pristine, though Yuu suspected they only looked that way because Trey had quietly cleaned up after Ace and Deuce’s haphazard attempts.

“Oi, Yuu, look at this spread!” Grim said, hopping onto the table and sniffing a tart. “This is what I call a feast fit for the Great Grim-sama!”

“Get down before Riddle sees you,” Yuu whispered, quickly pulling Grim back into their lap. “I don’t want to get dragged into another lecture.”

As if summoned by the mere mention of his name, Riddle appeared, straightening his blazer. “I trust everything is in order for the midnight countdown? I expect everyone to behave themselves and follow the rules. This is a formal occasion, after all.”

“Yes, sir!” Deuce said earnestly, while Ace muttered something about it being a party, not a trial.

The evening passed with laughter and games, though not without its share of chaos. Cater had everyone posing for photos, insisting on “just one more” until even Riddle begrudgingly joined in. Grim spent most of the time sneaking treats, though he loudly denied it when Trey caught him with powdered sugar on his nose.

As the clock neared midnight, the group gathered in the garden, bundled in scarves and coats against the winter chill. Sparklers flickered in the dark, their light reflecting in the frost-dusted roses.

“All right, everyone,” Riddle said, his voice firm but softer than usual. “It’s almost time. Let’s make this a New Year’s to remember.”

Yuu glanced at Grim, who had nestled against their side, his tail curling around their arm. “Grim, you ready?”

“Pfft, of course I am! This is gonna be my year,” Grim said, puffing out his chest. “The year Grim-sama rises to greatness!”

As the countdown began, voices overlapping in excitement, Yuu couldn’t help but smile. Being here, with this strange and wonderful group, felt like a gift.

“Happy New Year!"

The garden erupted in cheers as fireworks exploded overhead, painting the sky with bursts of red, gold, and silver. Grim let out a delighted yowl, jumping up to chase a stray spark that flickered down toward the ground.

Riddle, for once, didn’t scold him. Instead, he raised a teacup in a quiet toast. “To a year of success and order,” he said.

“And fun,” Ace added with a grin, dodging a playful punch from Deuce.

Yuu felt a warm glow settle in their chest as they watched their friends bicker, laugh, and celebrate together. The New Year stretched ahead, full of possibilities. Whatever challenges came next, they knew they wouldn’t face them alone.

As the fireworks faded and the group slowly drifted back inside, Grim fell asleep against Yuu’s shoulder, his soft snores blending with the faint hum of lingering magic in the air.

“Happy New Year, Grim,” Yuu whispered, their voice barely audible above the quiet. The little monster only snuggled closer in response, and Yuu couldn’t think of a better way to start the year.

_______________________________________________

💛Savanaclaw🖤

The New Year’s celebration at Savanaclaw was unlike anything Yuu had ever experienced before. The dorm was alive with energy, the air filled with the rich scent of grilled meat and the crackling sound of the enormous bonfire that had been built in the center of the courtyard. The fire’s golden light danced across the sandstone walls, casting long shadows that flickered like living beasts.

Yuu stepped into the dorm, Grim perched on their shoulder, his nose twitching as he sniffed the air. "Oh, yeah! This is the place to be for New Year’s!” Grim said, practically drooling as his eyes locked onto the buffet table piled high with roasted meat, steaming bowls of stew, and skewers sizzling over open flames.

“You better not embarrass me,” Yuu muttered, but Grim was already scrambling down and bounding toward the food.

Nearby, Jack was stacking logs by the bonfire, his muscular arms flexing with every movement. He gave Yuu a quick nod as they approached. “Good to see you here. Savanaclaw knows how to celebrate New Year’s the right way.”

“Looks like it,” Yuu replied, watching as a group of students broke into a spirited wrestling match not far from the fire.

“Oi, herbivore,” came a lazy voice from the shadows. Yuu turned to see Leona lounging on a pile of cushions under the shade of a large tent, his golden eyes glinting in the firelight. “Try not to get caught up in the chaos. Savanaclaw’s parties aren’t for the faint of heart.”

“I can handle it,” Yuu replied, crossing their arms.

Leona smirked. “We’ll see about that.”

As the night went on, the celebration grew wilder. The bonfire roared higher, and the students gathered around it, laughing and challenging each other to games of strength and speed.

Jack tried to teach Yuu how to arm-wrestle, but Yuu’s attempts were quickly interrupted by Grim, who declared himself the "strongest beast" and demanded a match with Jack. It ended with Grim flat on his back, his tail twitching indignantly as Jack chuckled.

Meanwhile, Leona watched from his spot, only getting involved when someone dared to challenge him to a game of strategy. He won every time, his smug grin growing wider with each victory.

Grim, determined to prove his worth, entered a tug-of-war contest, gripping a rope with his teeth against a team of Savanaclaw students. Yuu cheered him on, though it ended in comedic disaster when Grim’s tiny legs couldn’t hold up, and he was sent flying into a pile of hay.

As the clock neared midnight, everyone gathered closer to the bonfire. The heat was almost overwhelming, but the energy was infectious.

Leona finally rose from his spot, stretching lazily as he walked toward the fire. His presence commanded attention, and the rowdy group fell silent as he spoke.

“Here’s to another year,” he said, his voice carrying effortlessly. “Another chance to prove we’re the strongest, the smartest, and the ones to beat. Don’t slack off, and don’t waste it.”

A cheer erupted from the crowd as the countdown began. Yuu joined in, the excitement bubbling in their chest as the numbers grew louder.

“Three… two… one… Happy New Year!”

The roar of voices was matched only by the roar of the bonfire as someone threw another log onto it, sending sparks spiraling into the night sky. The celebration resumed immediately, drums beating in a rhythmic cadence as students danced around the flames.

Grim, perched on Yuu’s shoulder once more, licked a bit of stew off his paw. “Not bad, huh? We fit right in with these guys!”

Yuu laughed, watching the wild revelry unfold. Despite the chaos, the sense of camaraderie was undeniable. This was a place where strength was celebrated, where even the smallest victories mattered.

Leona passed by, his usual smirk softened just slightly. “You survived the night, herbivore. Not bad.”

“Happy New Year to you too, Leona,” Yuu replied, smiling.

As the party raged on into the early hours, Yuu found themselves feeling strangely at home among the howls, laughter, and blazing firelight. Another year had begun, and it was bound to be unforgettable.

_______________________________________________

💜Octavinelle🩶

The New Year’s celebration at Octavinelle was unlike any other, a mix of elegance and intrigue that left Yuu wondering what kind of tricks Azul and the twins had up their sleeves. The entrance to the dorm was lit with soft, bioluminescent lights that shimmered like underwater stars, casting the coral-like walls of the dorm in an otherworldly glow.

“Oi, Yuu, you sure this is a party? It looks more like one of Azul’s fancy business meetings,” Grim muttered as they stepped inside.

“I heard that,” came Azul’s smooth voice, his smile sharp as he emerged from behind a nearby pillar. “But rest assured, this is a party. Octavinelle knows how to ring in the New Year with style.”

Grim immediately perked up at the sight of a lavish buffet spread across the central lounge. Trays of fresh seafood, sparkling drinks, and desserts that glittered like gemstones covered the tables. “Now this is more like it!” Grim exclaimed, dashing toward the food.

“Don’t eat too much, or you might find yourself signing a contract,” Yuu warned, earning a laugh from Azul.

“Always so suspicious,” Azul said, adjusting his glasses. “But tonight, I’m simply a host. No contracts, I promise… unless you want one.”

The lounge was transformed into an underwater ballroom, with glassy floors reflecting the soft blue-green lights. Floyd had strung glowing jellyfish decorations from the ceiling, their tendrils swaying gently as if floating in water.

“Isn’t it so pretty, Shrimpy?” Floyd asked, suddenly appearing beside Yuu with his signature grin. “Makes you feel like you’re in the deep sea, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s amazing,” Yuu said, glancing around. “Did you help with this?”

“Nah, I just did the fun parts. Azul did all the boring stuff, like planning.” Floyd leaned closer, his mismatched eyes gleaming. “You gonna dance later? I’ll join if it looks fun.”

Before Yuu could respond, Jade approached, his posture as impeccable as ever. “Now, Floyd, don’t scare our guest. They’ve only just arrived.” He turned to Yuu with a polite smile. “Do let me know if you need anything. Tonight, we aim to ensure all our guests leave with fond memories.”

“Fond memories, huh?” Yuu said with a laugh. “I’ll hold you to that.”

As the clock crept toward midnight, the atmosphere in the lounge shifted. Azul stood at the head of the room, raising a glass as the lights dimmed, leaving only the glow of the jellyfish and the soft reflections in the glass walls.

“My dear friends and guests,” Azul began, his voice smooth and commanding, “thank you for joining us tonight. The New Year is a time for opportunity, for growth, and for making dreams come true. Let us toast to a prosperous year ahead.”

The crowd raised their glasses, and the countdown began.

“Ten… nine…”

Yuu glanced around, noting how even Floyd seemed unusually focused, his grin replaced by a curious intensity. Jade stood quietly, his sharp eyes watching everything like a predator waiting for the right moment.

“Three… two… one… Happy New Year!”

The room erupted in cheers, and the jellyfish decorations lit up brilliantly, their tendrils glowing with a soft golden hue. A gentle mist rolled over the glassy floor, making the entire lounge look like an enchanted underwater realm.

As the festivities continued, Yuu found themselves sitting with Azul at one of the quieter tables. Grim was nearby, fast asleep with a belly full of food, snoring softly.

“Enjoying yourself?” Azul asked, his voice quieter now.

“Yeah, it’s been… magical,” Yuu admitted, looking around at the elegant decorations and the laughing students. “You really know how to throw a party.”

Azul’s smile grew, though it held a hint of his usual cunning. “I’m glad to hear that. Octavinelle prides itself on offering unforgettable experiences.”

Floyd suddenly slid into the seat beside Yuu, his usual energy restored. “Shrimpy, you didn’t even dance! Next time, I’m dragging you out there.”

“Be careful with your ‘dragging,’ Floyd,” Jade said, appearing with a tray of sparkling drinks. “We wouldn’t want to scare them off before next year’s celebration.”

Yuu laughed, feeling oddly at ease despite the chaotic trio. As the party carried on, they couldn’t help but think that celebrating New Year’s in Octavinelle was like stepping into a dream—beautiful, mysterious, and just a little dangerous.

As the lights dimmed and the music softened, Yuu leaned back, watching the glittering room with a content smile. Whatever the new year brought, they were ready.

_______________________________________________

❤️Scarabia💛

The New Year’s celebration at Scarabia was a dazzling, sunlit affair that glowed with the warmth and vibrancy of its hosts. As Yuu stepped into the dorm, the rich scent of spiced tea and honeyed pastries wafted through the air, accompanied by the rhythmic beat of drums and the gentle chiming of bells.

The main courtyard had been transformed into a festival of light and color. Golden lanterns swayed gently from the tall palm trees, and colorful carpets covered the sandy ground, creating a space that was both luxurious and inviting.

“Welcome, my friend!” came Kalim’s cheerful voice, cutting through the hum of conversation and music. He bounded over, his smile as bright as the stars above. “I’m so glad you could join us! Tonight’s going to be amazing!”

Before Yuu could respond, Grim let out an excited yowl. “Look at all this food! This is my kinda party!”

Jamil appeared behind Kalim, his expression calm but with a hint of exasperation. “Kalim, maybe let them settle in before overwhelming them.” He turned to Yuu, nodding politely. “If you need anything, just let me know.”

“Thanks, Jamil,” Yuu said, glancing around. “This is incredible.”

Kalim clapped his hands together. “Then let’s make it a night to remember!”

The evening began with a feast. Long tables were laden with dishes that seemed endless: roasted meats, bowls of vibrant fruits, golden breads drizzled with honey, and desserts spiced with cinnamon and cardamom. Kalim flitted from guest to guest, making sure everyone was enjoying themselves.

“Try this!” Kalim said, handing Yuu a small bowl of something sweet and sticky. “It’s my favorite!”

Grim, meanwhile, had already piled his plate high and was halfway through a mountain of food. “This is paradise,” he said, crumbs flying everywhere.

After the feast, the courtyard came alive with music and dancing. Drummers sat in a circle, their hands moving with practiced precision, while a few students twirled in intricate patterns, their robes catching the firelight.

“Come on, Yuu! Dance with me!” Kalim said, grabbing their hand and pulling them toward the center of the courtyard.

Yuu laughed but didn’t resist, letting Kalim’s infectious energy guide them. Around them, students cheered and clapped to the rhythm, the joy in the air palpable.

Even Jamil, usually so reserved, seemed to relax. He stood at the edge of the crowd, a faint smile on his face as he watched the celebration unfold.

As midnight approached, Kalim led everyone to the highest balcony of Scarabia, where the view stretched out over the golden sands of the desert. The sky was clear, the stars shining brighter than ever.

“Okay, everyone!” Kalim said, his voice full of excitement. “It’s almost time! Let’s make a wish for the new year!”

The crowd grew quiet as the countdown began, voices echoing across the open desert.

“Ten… nine… eight…”

Yuu glanced at Kalim, who was practically bouncing with excitement, and then at Jamil, whose calm gaze softened as he looked out over the horizon.

“Three… two… one… Happy New Year!”

Cheers erupted, and Kalim threw his arms around Yuu in an exuberant hug. “Happy New Year! I just know this one’s going to be the best yet!”

Fireworks burst into the sky, painting it with shimmering golds, blues, and reds. The colors reflected off the sand, making it look like the desert itself was alight with magic.

As the celebration wound down, Yuu found themselves sitting on a soft carpet near the fire, sipping a cup of spiced tea. Grim was curled up beside them, snoring contentedly with a full belly.

Kalim plopped down next to them, his energy still unflagging. “Wasn’t that amazing? We should do this every year!”

Yuu smiled. “It was perfect. Thanks for inviting us.”

Jamil joined them, holding his own cup of tea. “Kalim may be impulsive, but he does know how to bring people together,” he admitted.

The three of them sat in comfortable silence, watching the last of the fireworks fade into the night. The desert stretched out around them, vast and timeless, a reminder of the adventures yet to come.

As Yuu leaned back against the cushions, they couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace. The new year had begun, and here, under the starlit sky of Scarabia, anything felt possible.

_______________________________________________

💜Pomefiore❤️

The New Year’s celebration at Pomefiore was nothing short of extravagant. The dorm, known for its opulence and polished charm, had been transformed into an elegant ballroom of shimmering gold and silver. Long, crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting soft glows that sparkled off the sleek marble floors. There was an air of refinement, a sense of quiet but undeniable luxury.

As Yuu entered, they couldn’t help but feel like they’d stepped into a fairy tale. The walls were lined with velvety curtains in shades of lavender and amethyst, and the air was perfumed with the delicate scent of floral arrangements. A string quartet played soft, classical music in the corner, providing the perfect background for the evening’s festivities.

Grim, perched on Yuu’s shoulder, let out an impressed whistle. “Wow, this place looks like a palace! Think they’ll let me eat everything in sight?”

“Don’t get any ideas,” Yuu warned, though a smile tugged at their lips.

Before they could go further into the grand hall, a voice as smooth as silk called out to them. “Ah, Yuu, you’ve arrived. Welcome to Pomefiore’s New Year’s gala.”

Yuu turned to see Vil Schoenheit, his presence immediately commanding the room. His elegant attire shimmered under the lights, his silver hair impeccably styled. He gave them a cool, perfect smile. “I trust you’re prepared for a night of refinement?”

“I’m not sure I could ever be as prepared as you,” Yuu said with a laugh, trying not to feel too out of place.

“Don’t worry,” Vil said, with a gracious tilt of his head. “Tonight is for all of us, regardless of rank or appearance. Let’s make it unforgettable, shall we?”

The evening was a whirlwind of luxury. The menu was carefully curated, with fine delicacies laid out on golden platters: foie gras, delicate pastries, and vibrant fruits from across the world. The table stretched endlessly, gleaming in the soft candlelight. Even Grim was caught in a moment of awe, though he couldn’t resist sneaking a bite of a particularly shiny pastry before Yuu could stop him.

“Grim!” Yuu hissed, but Grim only grinned around the food. “What? I’m just enjoying the refined cuisine,” he said, his mouth full.

As the night went on, Pomefiore’s guests mingled, their laughter and chatter soft and refined, fitting the tone of the dorm. Vil moved among the crowd, exchanging words with students, offering quiet compliments, and keeping the atmosphere impeccably elegant. He spoke to each person like they were the most important guest, making everyone feel like they belonged in such a stunning setting.

Yuu, on the other hand, found themselves lost in the glamour of it all. Rook Hunt appeared beside them, his gaze sharp and observant as always. “Ah, mon cher Yuu! I see you are entranced by the beauty of this evening. But one cannot merely admire—one must partake! There are many moments waiting to be captured in this night’s story.”

“I’m not sure if I’m ready for all that,” Yuu chuckled, glancing around. “This is… a lot.”

“But of course! The world of Pomefiore can be overwhelming, but I believe you have the heart of an adventurer. Embrace it! Let us enjoy tonight’s splendor.”

As the clock neared midnight, the lights dimmed, and the guests gathered around a large fountain at the center of the hall. It was decorated with crystal ice sculptures and surrounded by a circle of delicate candles. The air was filled with the soft sound of a string quartet playing a slow, melodic tune.

Vil stood at the front, raising his glass. “To a new year,” he began, his voice steady and commanding. “A year where we all rise to greater heights, where beauty and grace continue to shine in everything we do. Let’s make this year unforgettable.”

Everyone raised their glasses, their expressions solemn, but filled with hope. The countdown began.

“Ten… nine…”

Yuu glanced at Grim, who was standing next to them, nervously eyeing the sparkling drink in front of him. “You’re not planning to drink that, are you?” Yuu asked, though they already knew the answer.

“Who, me? Nah, I’m just admiring it. But if I accidentally spill some…” Grim said with a sly grin.

“Three… two… one… Happy New Year!”

As the clock struck midnight, fireworks erupted outside the windows, lighting up the night sky with brilliant bursts of color. The guests cheered, their faces illuminated in the reflection of the fireworks. A soft warmth spread through the room, and even Vil allowed himself a rare, genuine smile.

The rest of the evening unfolded in a graceful rhythm. Guests danced slowly to the music, the atmosphere serene and elegant. Rook had already started capturing moments on his camera, whispering quietly about finding the perfect angle.

Yuu, feeling a sense of peace amidst the lavish surroundings, found themselves standing by the fountain with Vil.

“Thank you for letting us be a part of this,” Yuu said, their voice soft but sincere.

Vil looked over at them, his smile a mixture of pride and something gentler. “It was my pleasure. This night was about more than just perfection—it was about celebrating the efforts of everyone here, no matter how small.”

As the night wore on, Yuu found themselves at ease, surrounded by a group of people who valued beauty, elegance, and their own quiet strength. The grand celebration had felt like something out of a dream, and as the final notes of music played, they realized the true gift of the evening was the chance to experience something so rare—an unforgettable New Year, spent with the unforgettable people of Pomefiore.

_______________________________________________

💙Ignihyde🖤

The New Year’s celebration at Ignihyde was unlike any other. The dorm, typically dark and quiet, had transformed into a cozy and peculiar space, suited to its inhabitants’ unique charm. The fluorescent lights cast a cool, neon glow over the rooms, giving the atmosphere a digital, almost virtual feel. There were no grand decorations, no lavish feasts—but the sense of camaraderie was there, in its own, understated way.

Yuu entered, Grim on their shoulder, looking around the familiar but surprisingly festive space. Large monitors displayed dynamic, colorful graphics, almost like a tech-themed fireworks show, while soft, ambient music filled the background, perfectly balanced for a calm yet engaging evening.

“Yuu! Grim!” Idia Shroud’s voice echoed from the other side of the room, and Yuu turned to see him sitting at a desk, his face illuminated by the glow of a screen. His usual hoodie was replaced with a slightly fancier version, though it still carried the same signature digital motif. “Come in! It’s time to start the…uh, the celebration!”

“Looks pretty low-key,” Yuu said, taking in the quiet room. There were a few chairs scattered around, and some digital party games set up on various screens. It was clear Idia wasn’t one for grandiose gatherings, but the effort was there.

“I—I tried! I thought maybe a virtual New Year’s event would be cool, so I’ve got a bunch of online games set up for everyone to play together,” Idia explained, fidgeting nervously. “I mean, it’s not like…uh, Pomefiore’s or anything, but I think it’ll be fun!”

Grim sniffed the air and immediately noticed a tray of snacks. “I’m sold. No fancy parties, but the snacks are top-tier!”

Yuu chuckled as Grim bounded over to grab a handful of chips. “Well, you know how to keep Grim happy.”

While most of the dorm’s activities were centered around virtual games, there was an undeniable charm to how things unfolded. Idia introduced the group to a series of multiplayer games, each more ridiculous than the last. Some involved outrageous challenges, others were simple strategy games, but all of them carried Idia’s signature flair for creating unique experiences.

Despite the digital nature of the event, there was something almost personal about it. Idia had carefully chosen each game to ensure everyone could participate without feeling overwhelmed. Even Grim, though clumsy, found himself absorbed in a silly online battle.

“Take that!” Grim yelled, pointing at the screen, where his character was decimating the competition. “I’m invincible!”

Yuu laughed, sitting next to Idia, who was engrossed in his own gaming session. “You really put a lot of effort into this, didn’t you?”

“I guess so,” Idia muttered, his voice slightly embarrassed. “I mean, I didn’t want it to be, like, boring. I know I'm not great at throwing parties in real life, but I can at least set up something fun in the digital world.”

“You’ve done a great job,” Yuu said, genuinely impressed by the thought he’d put into it. “It’s a nice change of pace.”

As midnight approached, the mood shifted. The game paused momentarily, and everyone gathered in front of a large screen where Idia had set up a countdown timer. The numbers ticked down slowly, almost like a ticking clock in an old video game. There was a brief pause before Idia, suddenly realizing it was almost time, quickly scrambled to adjust a few settings.

“Alright! We’re almost there! Time to celebrate!” Idia said, his voice a little shaky, but there was a sparkle of excitement behind it.

Grim let out an exaggerated yawn, rolling over onto the couch. “Ugh, it’s already past midnight? Is this party even real?”

“Grim!” Yuu scolded lightly, but then smiled.

With only moments left, the countdown continued, and the screen filled with bright, digital fireworks. Idia, perhaps realizing he had created the perfect balance of his own personal style, finally allowed himself to relax. The display of colorful pixels on the screen reminded everyone that despite the low-key atmosphere, it was a shared experience.

“Five… four… three… two… one… Happy New Year!”

The room was filled with the sound of digital fireworks, and Idia quietly let out a sigh of relief.

“Happy New Year, Yuu… Grim,” he muttered, glancing up from his screen to smile shyly. “Thanks for spending it with me.”

As the digital fireworks faded, the group lingered for a while longer, chatting about their favorite games and laughing at each other’s in-game antics. Idia, still a little socially awkward, seemed at ease, his shoulders relaxed. He had succeeded in making the night memorable—just in his own way.

Yuu leaned back in their chair, content, watching the digital world they had all entered. It may not have been the most traditional New Year’s celebration, but it was still meaningful. A quiet, digital kind of joy surrounded them, the perfect blend of gaming and companionship.

“Best New Year’s party ever,” Grim muttered from the couch, already half-asleep from all the excitement.

Idia’s face flushed slightly at the compliment. “Thanks, Grim…” He paused for a moment before adding, “Next year, I’ll make it even better. Maybe with VR, and… oh, I could probably add a few more mini-games too!”

Yuu chuckled softly, glancing at Idia, who was now enthusiastically brainstorming ideas. They couldn't help but smile, realizing that despite his quirky, introverted nature, Idia had created something truly special.

The night was winding down, but the warmth of the celebration lingered in the air. And as Yuu looked around at their friends in Ignihyde, they couldn’t help but feel that the New Year had arrived in its own, perfectly imperfect way.

_______________________________________________

💚Diasomnia🖤

The New Year’s celebration at Diasomnia was unlike any other. The ancient, mysterious dorm, draped in deep shades of violet and black, carried an aura of quiet grandeur. The towering stone walls, adorned with arcane symbols, seemed to hum with magic. Outside, the night was clear, the stars above casting a serene glow over the quiet expanse of the forest. The air in the dorm was cool and crisp, tinged with the scent of pine and earth, and the atmosphere was more subdued than the boisterous celebrations at other dorms.

Yuu stepped through the heavy, ornate doors, feeling the weight of the space. The grand hall was lit with soft, flickering candlelight that illuminated the elegant, gothic architecture. The space was almost otherworldly, filled with rich tapestries depicting ancient dragons, fey creatures, and legendary battles.

Grim, perched on Yuu’s shoulder, let out a low whistle. “This place is kinda creepy, huh? But also… kinda cool.”

“Definitely a lot quieter than the others,” Yuu said, scanning the room.

Just as they stepped further into the hall, a figure appeared from the shadows. Malleus Draconia, the dorm leader, stood tall with an air of quiet authority. His deep green eyes glinted in the candlelight, and his dark, regal attire seemed to blend seamlessly with the atmosphere around him. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he approached.

“Ah, Yuu. Grim,” Malleus greeted in his usual low, commanding voice. “Welcome to our humble celebration. It’s good to see you here.”

Yuu smiled warmly, though they couldn’t help but feel a little out of place in the grand and mysterious surroundings. “Thanks for inviting us. It’s beautiful in here.”

“We may not have the grandiose parties of other dorms, but I believe we can find joy in quieter moments,” Malleus replied, his gaze steady and sincere. “Tonight, we shall celebrate the passing of the old year in our own way.”

The gathering in Diasomnia was intimate, with only a few familiar faces present. The table was set with simple, elegant dishes—dark bread, rich cheeses, and roasted meats, complemented by chilled wines and herbal teas. A small group of students sat nearby, enjoying the subdued conversation, while the room’s serene ambiance allowed them to feel comfortable in each other’s presence.

As the evening wore on, Malleus remained a composed figure in the room, exchanging quiet words with those who spoke to him. Lilia Vanrouge, on the other hand, was far more animated, though his lively energy still carried an eerie sense of mischief. His laughter echoed off the stone walls as he interacted with everyone, occasionally darting between guests like a playful shadow.

“You two finally made it! I thought you’d be lost in the forest on your way here,” Lilia teased, his sharp eyes glinting as he approached Yuu and Grim.

“We got here just fine,” Yuu replied with a chuckle. “The path was a little dark, though.”

“It’s always dark around here,” Grim muttered. “Everything feels like it’s from some creepy fairytale.”

“Ah, but that’s the beauty of it, isn’t it?” Lilia grinned. “The world outside may be bright and loud, but here, we can enjoy the silence and find peace in the quiet.”

As the night deepened, the members of Diasomnia shared quiet stories of the past—tales of dragons, forgotten kings, and ancient magic. Malleus spoke sparingly, but when he did, the others listened intently. His words carried weight, as if his very presence commanded attention.

As midnight approached, the atmosphere shifted subtly. The sounds of soft conversations faded, replaced by a growing sense of anticipation. Malleus stood by the grand fireplace, his silhouette outlined by the flickering flames.

Yuu, who had been admiring the view through the large, arched windows, turned back to find Lilia next to them. “You seem a little… out of place. Not used to the quiet?”

Yuu shrugged, a little embarrassed. “It’s different. But in a good way. It’s nice to slow down for a change.”

Lilia smiled knowingly. “That’s what this night is about, after all—reflection, renewal. The year has passed, and the future lies ahead. It’s important to remember both the calm and the storm, for they shape who we are.”

As the clock neared midnight, the room fell still, everyone gathering in a quiet circle. Malleus raised a glass, his deep voice breaking the silence.

“May this new year bring prosperity to us all, and may the strength of the old ways guide us forward. Let us raise our glasses to the passing year and the promise of the future.”

The clock struck midnight. The room was filled with the soft clink of glasses as they toasted, and outside, a series of ethereal lights began to flicker across the sky. The stars above seemed to shine brighter than before, and the forest around Diasomnia shimmered with a subtle, magical glow.

As the night continued, Yuu found themselves at the edge of the grand hall, looking out through the open doors at the snow-covered trees and the flickering lights in the distance. It was as if the entire world had paused for a moment, offering them a chance to simply exist in the stillness.

Lilia appeared beside them, his voice soft. “It’s rare to see this kind of peace in our lives, isn’t it? We live so fast, chasing after the next thing. But sometimes, you need to pause and just breathe.”

Yuu nodded, the weight of the evening settling around them. “I think I understand now. It’s not about the noise or the big celebrations. It’s about finding the beauty in the quiet moments, too.”

The two stood there in companionable silence, watching the world outside. Malleus eventually joined them, his presence calming and steady. “The year is a cycle, Yuu. A beginning and an end, like the turning of a wheel. Let us cherish both moments, for each is fleeting.”

Yuu smiled, grateful for the quiet wisdom that came from the people of Diasomnia. The New Year had arrived, not with fanfare or fireworks, but with the peaceful embrace of time itself. In the heart of the forest, surrounded by ancient magic, Yuu felt like they had found something far more valuable than mere celebration—they had found a sense of belonging.

_______________________________________________

🤎Ramshackle🖤

The New Year’s Eve celebration at Ramshackle Dorm was unlike anything Yuu had ever experienced. It wasn’t glamorous or flashy like the parties at the other dorms, nor was it as quiet and mysterious as the one in Diasomnia. Instead, the evening was filled with a peculiar charm—a mixture of ghostly antics, eerie laughter, and an atmosphere that could only be described as “comfortably chaotic.”

Yuu walked through the crooked halls of the dorm, which, despite its disarray, had a certain warmth to it. The cobwebs on the ceilings and the creaking floorboards were familiar now, and the flickering candles and broken chandeliers only added to the odd coziness of the place.

“Looks like the place is ready for something,” Yuu muttered, adjusting the collar of their jacket as they glanced around.

Grim, perched on Yuu’s shoulder, squinted suspiciously at the dim-lit corners. “You sure it’s safe? I’m starting to think those ghosts are up to something.”

“I don’t think they’d hurt us,” Yuu replied with a half-smile. “But let’s keep an eye out just in case.”

Just as Yuu was about to head further into the building, they were greeted by a faint, soft giggle. The sound echoed through the hall, and before they could react, a faint, translucent figure appeared before them.

“Oh! You’re here!” Spade, one of the friendly ghosts, floated up excitedly, his translucent body shimmering in the candlelight. “We were just waiting for you. We’ve got the best plans for tonight!”

Yuu raised an eyebrow but smiled warmly. “Plans? You mean the ghosts have plans for the New Year?”

“Well, not exactly the normal plans,” Spade giggled mischievously. “But it’ll be fun! We’ll have games, some stories, and a little bit of spooky fun to welcome the new year! You’ll see!”

As the evening progressed, Yuu found themselves swept up in the strange and whimsical festivities organized by the ghosts of Ramshackle Dorm. It wasn’t a grand banquet or a glamorous ball, but the night had a distinct charm. The ghosts were quite the hosts, although their way of celebrating was... well, unorthodox.

There were haunting games—one involved bobbing for apples that turned out to be more challenging than expected, as they floated just out of reach, taunting Yuu and Grim. Another game had them trying to solve riddles posed by the resident ghost, Ace, who loved to pop up unexpectedly and demand an answer to some eerie puzzle. His voice echoed and changed pitch as it bounced off the walls, giving an unsettling effect to his otherwise playful tone.

“We have to figure out who is the quickest at finding the haunted objects hidden around the dorm,” Ace said, floating upside-down in front of them, his ghostly form twisting and turning in the air. “First one to find the cursed mirror wins!”

Grim jumped to his feet, eyes wide. “A cursed mirror? That sounds like a trap!”

Yuu couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s probably just an old mirror. Let’s just go with it.”

As the night wore on, the ghostly games got stranger and stranger, but they never lost their appeal. There was dancing, though it wasn’t quite what you’d expect. The ghosts floated around, creating ethereal patterns in the air, while Yuu and Grim attempted a few wobbly steps, trying to mimic the movements.

Laughter echoed through the halls, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Yuu felt genuinely at ease in the odd, haunting dorm. Even the creaky floors seemed to welcome them, rather than be a nuisance.

The final moments of the year approached, and the ghosts seemed to grow more animated. Grim, who had been getting more into the spirit of things (and more than a little excited about the ghost-themed treats), was bouncing around, yelling out to anyone who would listen.

“Midnight’s coming! Midnight’s coming! What happens when it strikes?” Grim demanded, looking between the others as if expecting them to know.

“Relax, Grim. It’s not like there’s a curse tied to it,” Yuu said, though they were just a little nervous themselves.

The main gathering area was bathed in soft, flickering candlelight as everyone prepared for the midnight countdown. The ghosts, all gathered in a circle, held their hands—translucent or otherwise—together.

“Ten... nine...”

As the countdown continued, the atmosphere shifted. Despite the mischief and lighthearted pranks, there was a palpable sense of anticipation. The ghosts were just as excited as anyone else for the new year. Their giggles faded into soft murmurs, their eyes glowing with a mix of excitement and something deeper—a hope that the year to come would be one filled with new memories.

“Three... two... one... Happy New Year!”

At the stroke of midnight, an eerie but warm mist filled the room. The lights from the candles flickered brightly, casting a soft glow around everyone. A strange, magical sound, like a chorus of voices whispering in the wind, filled the space. The ghosts cheered, floating in circles, as fireworks without the usual noise erupted outside, casting a soft, glittering light through the windows.

Grim, looking up at the fireworks, beamed. “Now this is what I’m talking about!”

Yuu smiled, feeling a surge of warmth. It wasn’t the most conventional New Year’s celebration, but it was filled with something even more precious: the laughter and joy of friends, old and new. The ghosts of Ramshackle, in all their otherworldly eccentricities, had made sure the night was one Yuu would never forget.

As the final sparkles of the magical fireworks faded, the ghosts of Ramshackle Dorm returned to their usual ethereal, almost sleepy selves. The night was winding down, but the echoes of the evening’s fun lingered in the air.

Spade floated up to Yuu and Grim, a grin wide on his face. “Did you enjoy our celebration? It may not have been as flashy as the others, but we sure know how to throw a spooky, fun party!”

“It was… definitely something else,” Yuu said, glancing at Grim, who was still nibbling on ghostly sweets that had appeared out of nowhere.

“You can say that again!” Grim added with a grin, wiping his mouth. “Best food and the spookiest fireworks!”

Laughter filled the room once more, and as the clock ticked away the final moments of the night, Yuu realized that the ghosts had given them a gift that couldn’t be replicated—memories forged in an unforgettable, hauntingly joyful New Year’s celebration. In the end, they didn’t need all the glitz and glamour. The eerie charm of Ramshackle Dorm was all they needed to welcome the new year with a heart full of warmth and laughter.

[blueblossomrose]

This post is part of the Twisted Parents Series.

Content: Post-canon, general hcs, afab!fem!mc, marriage, children, household things.

Notes: this is an honest summary 😭 I tried to simplify as much as I could

Comments and reblogs are very welcome ♡

Resume HCs [1]

After graduating, his life was a chaos of happiness and despair.

At the same time, MC and he were in a relationship, but his mother was more crazy than never been.

MC and him dated in secret for a time, while he was still living with his mother.

When he finally managed to leave the house, it was an event. MC and he jumped of joy, celebrating the achievement.

After a few years of dating, he finally had the courage to ask she to marry him.

Riddle is a pediatrician. It's fun and sweet to see how caring he is with the kids. His profession has helped him a lot with anger management.

MC and Riddle have two children: a girl named Violete, and a boy named Alexander.

After graduation, MC and Trey pursued a healthy and long-lasting relationship.

They met each other's families, and Trey's parents and siblings adored MC.

The wedding was honestly something that was highly anticipated by both families.

Trey continued the family business, as expected of a great baker.

Trey and MC have three children together: two boys, Timothy and Thomas, and a girl, Rose.

After graduation, Cater was looking at houses to move into during the time he and MC were dating.

Cater reluctantly introduced his family to MC. It was an awkward dinner.

As soon as he got the house, he proposed to MC.

Cater is a journalist.

He and MC have two children together: a boy named Roy, and a girl named Astrid.

He actually complained about the postgraduate course. He was trying hard and getting help from his family.

He wanted to stay at home while he was in school, but his relationship with MC literally got the best of him and he wanted his own place sooner.

As soon as he finished his studies, they had already reached a certain peak in they relationship. So, he asked MC to marry him.

He proudly introduced his family to you.

Ace has a job in in the ministry, in the accounting part.

MC and Ace have two children: a boy named Jasper and a girl named Lilian.

After graduation he was eager to start the course.

He was so happy that he now had a girlfriend and was going to do the course of his dreams.

He immediately introduced MC to his mother.

After the course, he got a job in the ministry with Ace, but in the security part.

He wanted the job before he proposed to MC, so when he got it, he was over the moon. Although still nervous to make the proposal.

He and MC have two children: two boys named Matthew and Raphael.

[viaviavie]

SEEKING DREAMLIGHT | STONE OF FRIENDSHIP | 1

in which you return to twisted wonderland. do you recall the first gift you were given when you came to this place years ago? you were all alone then, with no one to run and turn to. by the end of your adventure, you were surrounded with so many gifts? can you tell me who the first ones were? your beloved house of cards; they welcome you once more.

SUMMARY: based on disney’s dreamlight valley. years after the ramshackle prefect had left twisted wonderland, former students suddenly find themselves back in night raven college with missing memories and dreams of a magicless student they were supposed to know. an older prefect finally makes a return to a shell of the fantasy you once lived, falling in love once more with what was forgotten.

FEATURING: heartslabyul

NOTES: rather than putting everything in one sitting, i have made a strategic solution to split up the story into even more sections.

[ INDEX ] [ PREVIOUS ] [ NEXT ]

Strong, hardened muscle was what enveloped your form, followed by the weight that nearly toppled you down on the balcony. Deuce never wasted a second contemplating your existence when he ran to the top of the stairway to grab your shoulders. He has grown much bigger now, and so have you. In spite of all the years that had passed since your initial disappearance, Deuce discards all unfamiliarity as he crushes you against his chest. Maybe it was the hopelessness of this place that drove him to hold you, washed away by the pure joy of finding what has been lost. "It's been so long," He whispers, afraid that you would disappear into dust if he dared to let go. "I'm really happy to see you, Prefect." 

And Ace stares from a distance, almost hesitant to even affirm himself that you were real. The large direbeast trots up the stairway, but the redhead remains at the bottom. Unbeknownst to you, who had been so engrossed into your happy reunion, he clenches his teeth and grinds down with such force that his jaw has begun to ache. 

"I missed you too, Deuce." You tell the taller boy— man, taking the time to acknowledge how much taller had gotten. 

Deuce pauses, face freezing once he took notice of what little distance was shared between you both. His fingers hesitantly loosened themselves on your shoulders, and he pulled back. That hopeful expression on his features never wavers, and he finally lets out a sigh of relief. You have not disappeared at all. 

Before he could even utter a word, Ace cut him off as he climbed the stairway. "You look well, Prefect." You finally take a good look at the redhead who still donned that heart on his eye. Deuce swallows to himself, stealing your attention once more while he rubbed the back of his neck with sheer embarrassment. "Sorry, we're just... so surprised to see you again." He says in a quieter tone now, shifting to the side as Ace stands before you. 

His expression is cold, unreadable if anything. You cannot help but find yourself unable to meet his eyes as he stares. "Both of you look so grown up." You breathed out. Ace says nothing, and it forces Deuce to speak in his place. "I guess we did. You look different too, Prefect." There is a gentleness in Deuce’s tone, something that has not changed in the years that came to pass. And yet, Ace continues to unnerve you with the way he glares at you subtly. You do not understand.

There was no time to dwell on nostalgia or the mysteries of the heart, however.

Clearing your throat, you make a slight gesture to the thorns obscuring the windows. "Do you know what happened here?" You asked them. Ace shook his head, tucking his hands into his pockets with indifference. "No. One day, I'm going about my business and suddenly, I couldn't remember a damn thing before I woke up here in the dorm." Deuce nodded his head, eyebrows knitted together in concern. "Yeah, the same thing happened to me. We both woke up in Ramshackle together." Deuce continues as he walked toward the thorns, reaching out a gloved hand across the window. With a tight grip, he attempts to break away the plant with his bare hand, but to no avail. "We've been stuck out here on campus ever since. The exit is completely covered with thorns, and our magic is useless against them." 

You grimace, crossing your arms until your eyes flicker across the familiar checkered pattern across their clothes. It suddenly dawns on you as you glance down at your own attire; the Ramshackle dorm uniform that you do not recall wearing. Heartslabyul, the name is whispered into your ears as you come to the realization that there were five of them, not two. "Is it just the two of you here?" Much to your lock, Deuce grunts in disagreement. 

"I don't think so. We have explored as much as we can, but plenty of areas are barred off by either thorns or locks.” Your interest is piqued at the mention of ‘locks’, and Ace knows it by the way you look up at them with intent. Skully grins in the shadows as Grim pounces onto the railings, eager to move.

“Where?”

There was once a point in time where Ace and Deuce were at their most suffocating. One may never find the Prefect truly alone, not when the two Heartslabyul students were often at your side like two moving pillars. Some things never change, you think to yourself as two large backs obscure your view as your party walks down the long dark hallway of the campus building. Skully is not too far behind, stalking quietly with that excited grin of his. His presence has been questioned, but Skully insists that he only wishes to accompany and aid your quest to escape. Considering that he has been nothing but helpful in a world surrounded by thorns and blot, there was no room for complaint.

You remember this space even better now as Deuce holds up an old oil lantern in his hand. It was the very place you awoke in, your opened coffin undisturbed. “You woke up here? In the Room of Mirrors?” Deuce asks you, replied by Grim’s yowl. 

“I found the Prefect here, just the Prefect.” 

“We’re here.” Wading in the darkness, you found yourself crashing into Ace’s back. Followed by a grunt emitted from his chest, you can see the way he scowls at you. Before you can even mutter an apology, the redhead cuts you off as he moves to the side.

A red glow obscures your vision, the light coming from the mirror’s warped reflection. You recall now; it is the Mirror to Heartslabyul.

The mirror is covered with thorns upon thorns that had ensnared it, threatening to prick all those that attempt to untangle their way through. However, at the center of such greenery, was a metal padlock. 

Your fingers grasp the metal key in your pocket, itching to solve this mystery as you used to many years ago. 

"Skully, what do you think?" You murmured. Still holding that unsettling smile on his face, the tall man stretches himself forward, peering at the padlock. Ever so eager, he reaches a gloved hand out to touch it, but the magic oozing from the lock only serves to burn him with the slightest brush. Skully does not let weakness show as he pulls back, gently resting his palms over your shoulders and bending down to reach your ears. "Every lock has a key somewhere, my dear! Do you perhaps have its partner?"

They all stare at you as you fish a metal key from your pocket. "I have this." Your excitement is dampened by the way Ace narrows his eyes at you, stepping into your space as if confronting you. "Where did you find it? Deuce and I spent hours searching for a key." There is a certain poison on his tongue that makes you frown, but you cannot tell if that has always been a part of his personality anymore. Your gaze shifts down onto the key, unable to continue meeting his scarlet eyes. "I'm not sure. I woke up with it in my possession when Grim found me in my coffin." 

Thankfully, Deuce steps in and pats your shoulder with reassurance. "Let's give it a shot, Prefect!" A grin works its way up your face as Deuce cracks his knuckles with that determined grin on his face, a remnant of an old habit from the past. Ace averts his eyes, arms crossed with forced indifference as you approach the glowing mirror. Perhaps it was confidence or a sort of arrogance that fuels your bravery, but the key glows red in your hand as you come closer and closer, slipping it into the hole.

And with a successful twist, the red glow fades into white. 

Thorns had begun to shift, slowly wriggling and dancing onto the back of the mirror until they were no longer. The padlock, itself, vanishes into the light before you and now, the mirror is open for passage. 

A heavy weight has suddenly been pushed onto your back, and you could only balance yourself once more as Grim’s furry ear brushes against your cheek. “Henchman, it worked!” He grins excitedly, followed by sounds of victory coming from Deuce. Ace is eerily silent, his expression bored and fixed. He ignores your depleted expression once you look back at him, even making his way past you without concern. 

“I’ll go in first. If I don’t come out, then you can assume it’s okay to go through.” Ace grunted, only sparing a glance at a conflicted Deuce who nodded in agreement. You never get a chance to protest for his safety as he slips through the mirror hastily. His friend could only sigh, placing an assuring hand on your shoulder. 

“Don’t worry about Ace…” Deuce sighed, grimacing as he looked at the mirror. “He’ll come around.” Words are lost on your tongue, simmering in your own defeat. You cannot exactly pinpoint what you had done wrong to make Ace act so cold, not when you had barely reunited with him only an hour ago. Such lamentations are lost on you, however, as Grim huffs to himself. “I’m going in next!” He yells as he pounces from your shoulder into the mirror. 

Deuce readies you, holding onto your arm. He glances at you for permission, and you take a moment to look back at Skully who seemed to be too engrossed with staring at the other thorn-riddled mirrors in the room. "Are you coming, Skully?" You called out. The tall man looks back at you, standing straight before lowering his torso into a bow. "It'd be best if I stayed out here, my dear." He crooned with that fixated smile on his face. "You never know if you'll need someone to fetch you from the outside." However he will know when to fetch you, you do not know. If Skully was able to protect you once, he can surely protect himself too. 

With a wave, you nod back at Deuce who grins at you. His hand grips onto yours firmly as both of you take a step through the mirror, obscured in the light. Skully is smiling still, blowing a kiss at your disappearing figure.

"Take care, my dear! Do bring back a tart for me!"

Roses. It had always smelled like roses in Heartslabyul, if not cake or red fruit. Everything was red, white, perhaps checkered or not like a chessboard. There was black, but not this much. Even with the scent of roses obscuring your senses, it does nothing to deter the scent of ink and blot that had split and bubbled across the gardens and the statues. 

It frightens you, and you cannot reach into the crevices of your mind to find comfort in the memory of an Unbirthday Party. You are never even given the chance to try as you hear Ace bark from afar. “About time you both got here. Quickly, quickly!” Deuce is quick on his feet, but his hold on you does not cease when you notice that his hand is still gripping your own. “Man, it’s been ages since I was last here. It doesn’t look that different.” He uttered, marveling at the ink-stained world before him. 

Something else catches your eye, however. Shuffling along the guidelines of the supposed-garden maze are Heartsalbyul students, whose faces were obscured with ink. They hustle about, carrying cans of paint and carpentry supplies. “There are students here!” You whisper. Just as Deuce was ready to confront the group, Ace clicks his tongue. “Don’t bother,” 

You never took the time to realize how much Ace had grown from the shadow of a first-year. Since when had he been taking initiative? “Grim’s been trying to grab their attention for a while now. They phase through him like ghosts.” You fall silent, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. It was evident that something terrible had happened here, but too many pieces of the puzzle were missing. 

Your thoughts were quickly cut off by a quiet purr from the distance. Grim turns a corner, his little ribbon flying through the air as he pounces forward in a hurry. Immediately, he stops before you, curling his tail in endearment. Just as you used to, you found yourself crouching down, kneading your fingers against his head. There were four small envelopes held between his teeth. “What’d you find, Grim?” You murmur, taking the envelopes into your possession.

Two shadows are casted behind you, and you could only find some relief in their familiarity. Deuce takes an envelope, Ace takes another, and you are all left to read its contents. “I haven’t gotten one of these in ages!” Deuce exclaimed, eyes wide as his finger ran over his name on the envelope. “Invitations to today’s Unbirthday Party?” You ask, slipping the cardstock out from the opening. “Maybe we will get more answers if we attend.” 

Ace lets out a noise of concern as he nudges your shoulder. “Look at this,” His finger points at the fine writing on the card.

Please paint the roses red.

Please bring a white tablecloth to the Unbirthday Party.

Please bring the sleeping dormouse to the Unbirthday Party.

Please welcome the Prefect to the Unbirthday Party.

Your blood runs cold at the final statement. You had barely been here for even a minute, and it seems that someone— something knew you were here. 

Grim is not blind to how your expression is stricken with fear. No longer a kitten now, he bumps his head against your knee and meows softly, snapping you out of your train of thought. You sigh, followed by Deuce’s grunt. “Who do you think wrote this?” His dark eyes meet Ace’s scarlet ones that avoid him, not wanting to even think on the mystery. “Beats me.” Deuce opens his mouth, and his hand is already reaching out to grab the other’s shoulder, but Grim’s hiss cuts him off.

“There’s something else, Henchman!” 

All eyes are trained onto the little direbeast that bared his fangs. “Someone’s trapped in the gardens! Tried sniffing 'em out, but there’s no end to the hedges.” Rising to your feet, you frown as you glance at the maze entrance. The white roses that had been growing from the bushes had either been wilting or were stained in ink, the substance dripping onto the ground. “Looks like magic’s got something to do with it.” You rasped, allowing your feet to carry you forward.

The concerned calls for you were largely ignored, not when curiosity drove you further. It wasn’t as if Alice gave any true regard for her safety when exploring the rest of Wonderland in her tale, and neither did you. You march along the dirt path, following the right side of each and every turn until you find yourself back at the start. Grim, who had been trailing at your side, groaned in annoyance. “It’s bringing us in circles!” He scowled, pawing at your knee. 

A small bush is covered in white roses, untouched by decay or blot. And another, and another few more down a row. 

You pause, staring at the plant intensely. "An Unbirthday Party," You murmur, hearing footsteps catch up to you until all that is left is Deuce and Ace’s shallow panting. The odd plant catches their attention as well, and it does not take long for Ace to lick his lips into a smirk. "Deuce, don't you remember that rule?" The dark haired boy tilts his head towards the other, confusion evident in his clueless blink. 

"What rule?" 

"The roses must be painted red for Unbirthday Parties.” 

Now, that jogged Deuce’s memory. How could he possibly forget after spending three years painting those goddamn roses red? “Yeah?” Taking out his pen, the man sighs in relief. At the very least, they wouldn’t be doing this manually. Ace is grinning now, having fished out his own pen and pointed it at a white rose. “Let’s get painting.” 

They are quicker than you remember, much more agile in the way they flick their wrists and channel color into those blooms. “You remembered the rules, Ace?” You murmur, awe in your voice. It brings a nostalgic sweetness to your heart when Ace grins at you, seeking validation as he always had when you were present. “Of course, I did. I became the housewarden in our third year. Isn’t that right, Deuce?” He boasted, his ego all the more stroked by the way your jaw falls slack. The other only nods in admittance, rolling his eyes at his friend. 

“What?!” 

Cackling along, Ace finishes painting an entire rose bush red. “Yep, could you believe that? Memorized all 810 rules in total.” For the first time since you have been reunited with him, you find yourself feeling warm talking to the redhead. “You’re amazing, Ace.” You breathe out, sneaking to Deuce’s side as the former delinquent finishes painting one of the bushes. The joy was immediately taken away from your expression when Ace pauses, melting back down into a cold scowl as he turns away. “Tch,” He clicks, moving onto the next bush. 

You are unable to help with the lack of supplies, but that does not stop you from keeping Deuce company. Your fingers brush against a white rose, playing with the soft petals. “I missed doing this with both of you.” You sigh softly, allowing a moment of vulnerability. Deuce slows in his movements, taking the time to glance at your somber expression. He smiles, attempting to lighten the mood. “Me too.” To no avail, you shift uncomfortably in your stance as you continue cupping the rose. “Deuce,” He clenches his jaw, as if afraid of what you are about to ask of him.

“Do you remember what happened when I disappeared?” You do not miss the way his expression hardens, eyes shifting away immediately as the question was given. “Ah…” Deuce’s mouth opens for a slight moment before he shuts it, in search of an answer that was long lost. In a quiet croak, Deuce murmurs an apology. “I don’t think I recall. I’m sorry.” He finally musters the will to glance at you, almost pained to give you an explanation. “It’s so foggy. I knew it happened during our first year, but…” The former delinquent sighed, shaking his head. 

“I’m sorry, Prefect. I can’t—!” 

Deuce falls silent, eyes wide with alarm now. “Prefect, look.”

You do not understand why until you follow his gaze, down to your hand. For a mere second, sparkles of light were quietly emitting from your fingertips; the white rose slowly being dyed a crimson red in your palm. 

“The roses…” He breathes out, watching as the rose stills itself completely red. You stare, mouth ajar as you turn to Deuce with frantic confusion.

“Great Sevens—”

“You guys finished?” Neither of you glance at Ace who had begun approaching you both now, having finished his portion of the work. The redhead stares at the way sweat beads down Deuce’s pale face, all color drained from shock. “Ace, the Prefect—” Grim does not allow Deuce’s quiet voice to come through, not when the scent of ink suddenly floods the air and makes you feel dread. “Look! Something’s opened up!” You hear the direbeast from afar. Ace refuses to waste another moment in Heartlsabyul as he jogs into the garden maze once more. 

“Let’s go! Hurry, hurry!” 

You share a quick look with Deuce, and he returns your weak stare with understanding. This can wait, but the possible students trapped here cannot. Both of you are hot on Ace’s trail, following the footsteps until you find a new opening in the maze. 

The sight of blot makes you ill, and judging by the sounds of Grim’s yelping, it seems that they have already encountered their beast. 

Deuce pushes his way past the blot and you follow behind, eyes landing on a large blob of ink fastened onto the ground in one large clump. Ace is hurling fire at it, taking a quick glance back at Deuce who arms himself.  “Tch, be careful!” Ace hissed, kicking at a puddle of ink that threatened to drag his foot down. “Blot!” Grim is breathing fire too, causing the blob to shrink inwards in response. Deuce is throwing spells at the abomination now, summoning vines to constrict the blob’s movements into a confined space. 

And in that moment, you see it; the outline of a limp arm dripping in ink. 

Your eyes flicker back at your companions that have been throwing all sorts of magic at the abomination, but it does not entirely wash away the blot. The blot remains, swallowing up whatever poor person was inside. You know better than to interfere, but wasn’t that something you were always good at? You’ve certainly done it before.

Such egocentric thoughts will have you killed, but you would sooner die sitting idly by and doing nothing now. 

Ace’s eyes are wide with a mixture of fright and alarm as he watches you whisk past the puddles of ink, towards the direction of that blotted creature. “Prefect, get back!” He screamed, gripping his pen tight as he threw a larger fireball at the blot. “Deuce, bring the Prefect back!” Deuce freezes at the demand, finally taking notice of your figure that is so dangerously close to the blot. If you were pulled in, you certainly wouldn’t come out anymore. “Prefect!”

Their cries fall onto deaf ears as you search for that arm. Rather than one now, you spot two limbs this time, sticking out of the inky cavern of the blob. Gritting your teeth, you suck a deep breath and heave. “Take my hand!” You cry out, plunging your arms into the inky abyss, much to the distressed cries of your companions. 

A startled cry emits from your lips as two hands reach out from the ink, clawing onto your sleeves. Something is pulling you, or rather, someone is pulling themselves out. Your feet threaten to give in, but it is when you feel a pair of muscular arms wrap around your middle when you feel secure. Deuce pants into your ear, glaring at the blotted creature, and he pulls. 

There is light, you notice. There is a certain glimmer of light emitting from within the blot as you see more and more of the outline trying to escape. Checkered red and white patterns are coming into view, and it is almost as if the ink is shying away from you now. With a final pull from Deuce, a heavy figure is sent tumbling your way, knocking you down onto the grass as a large flicker of fire overcomes the monster once and for all. Reduced into nothing, dark miasma fades into the air and soon, the blot was no longer. 

“Prefect, what the hell were you thinking!?” You hear the redhead cry out, followed by his frantic footsteps. Back flat against the grass, you could only peer at Ace’s reddened face as he takes your shoulders. He is looking at you, at every piece of you as if he were an overbearing mother. 

“I knew you used to be stupid sometimes, but now is not the time to be reckless! You could’ve gotten hurt, or worse, died! Don’t you have any sense of—!” 

“That was a close one. I thought I was a goner!”

A new voice this time fills in the space, and everyone falls silent. You have not even registered the sudden weight on your thighs, or the way that said weight disappeared in that moment. Light orange hair tied into a ponytail, accompanied by those little canines that glinted whenever he smiled.

“You—!” Deuce choked as the figure held up two fingers into a ‘peace’ sign. You beam, mustering a shaky smile as the name returns to your memory.

“It’s me, Cay-Cay!”

TAGLIST: @jjsmeowthie @deviious @hellfirestarter @thatpersonuouknow @knorreine @nerenda @goths4gambit @ghostlysyntaxed @minkyungseokie @daeda21 @red1sg0n3 @hatsumekannazuki @driftaway27 @alienlatteinspace @michtellch @loyalkatniss @notquitebunnie @eliza-be-t-h @avalordream @lovemiyae @our-raven-strife-universe @cecil-the-crybaby @your-dazzling-sun @twstsandturns @mrs-hoshina @biumg-ie @mellowberrie

[moonlit-midnight]

TWST incorrect quotes

Yuu: Do you have someone you fancy? You always smile with joy when you’re on your phone 

Riddle: Bold of you to assume that I have a crush because of that 

Yuu: Then what’s the reason behind your happy moods?

Riddle: Oh, I watch hedgehogs videos a lot when I’m bored 

Riddle, smiling fondly: They’re such silly little creatures, but they make me happy 

[bones4thecats]

Hello! I am 🫱🏻 anon! Could I request Malleus, Jamil, and Ace with a s/o who fears being separated from them?

➸ Separation Anxiety! S/O; Twisted Won.

Character: Malleus Draconia, Jamil Viper, and Ace Trappola A/N: These are short, yet sweet (I hope) Disclaimer(s): Not that descriptive panic attacks? Idk if that's a trigger warning though... meh, whatever you think it is

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Malleus Draconia ═════════════════════════╝

🐉 Malleus was clingy in his own ways. It came with being a Dragon-Fae, as they were known to cling onto the things they either found value in or something that they determined to be theirs

🐉 Because of that nature, he was almost always around you, and whenever you were away from him, he'd feel bad. Little did he know, you felt the exact same whenever he had to be away from you for too long

🐉 Your issues with separation was shown when you couldn't find him and hadn't seen him since that morning. You ended up curling inside of his room in a ball crying your heart out

🐉 Malleus appeared and after calming you down, asked Lilia what was up with you having issues with being apart from him. After being informed on your separation anxiety, Malleus began to keep you by him everywhere he went so you wouldn't get upset again

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Jamil Viper ════════════════════════════╝

🐍 Jamil isn't that clingy. He's used to not having many things to himself, after all, he does work for the person who considers himself to be his best friend

🐍 When you came into his life and actually got together with him, he became fairly clingy in a different way than what many would believe him to be. He would try to always keep tabs on you to make sure you were okay, he didn't want to come off as obsessed, but to others, he did

🐍 He found out about your separation anxiety when he had to go away to grab something from his home, leaving you with Kalim, who ended up speaking to another one of his siblings. You began to panic, and you ran to the nearest bathroom, curling onto the ground and crying

🐍 Jamil found you and ended up carrying you to his room to keep you calm and away from crying, hearing and seeing you crying just made his heart break. When you do calm down, he does research to keep you from breaking down again

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Ace Trappola ═══════════════════════════╝

🪅 Ace is unknowingly clingy himself. He always had an arm around your shoulders as he spoke to the others, and was almost always around you. From the start of the day till the very end

🪅 Because of this, he never had to notice your separation anxiety, as if never became a big problem. But when it did, let's just say he was far less than prepared

🪅 Unlike the others, Ace has no chill when you panic. So, he just kneels in front of you and nervously tries to joke around to get you to laugh off your fear, and when that doesn't work out, he ends up groaning and trying to hug you to calm you

🪅 It took a while, but when you did calm down. He joked about how much he deserved a reward for helping you out of such a sticky-situation. You know he doesn't mean to be mean, so you just chuckle and pat his head as you cuddle up to him

[marlair]

hi !! m not sure if u take rqs but if u do ,, do u mind writing the first years x a rllyyy short reader? any gender is fine !! <3

i didn’t expect you to be so tiny

synopsis: the first years with a.. really short prefect.

gn!yuu

ACE TRAPPOLA

this guy is average (i suppose) height, so he’d probably laugh right in your face about your height.

“HAHA bro how are you that tiny😂😂” coded

you, as a member of the short community, want to do nothing more than yank his hair.

smh.

if you needed to grab something from a shelf taller than you (most shelves in NRC), he’d probably watch you struggle for a hot minute and then laugh at you — only after that routine is he willing to help you out.

“loud sigh, fineeee, since you need my help so bad, i GUESS i’ll help you out”, he says.

though with his reaction, you think you’d much rather have just climbed onto a chair and done it yourself.

you are sick and TIRED.

DEUCE SPADE

he’s not as.. assholey about it as ace, but you can definitely tell he’s aware of your shortness.

the moment you stand in front of a shelf that is, in fact, taller than you — he’s already behind you and has the item you needed in his hands, smiling warmly.

you died.

he carries stuff for you because apparently, ‘you might not be able to carry it! because you’re, well..’

you appreciate it, of course, but —

— you can carry a single grocery bag, okay?

he underestimates you quite a bit because of your height, which is most of the time annoying, but it’s funny sometimes.

JACK HOWL

he’s like 6’3” what the fuck. and considering you’re.. cough cough really short, it’d probably be funny seeing you two standing next to eachother.

the contrast would probably bewilder some people, add-in the fact he’s really muscular and then it’d even be creepy to some.

like deuce, he’d probably underestimate you to some extent because of your.. rather diminutive height.

he’d have to look straight down to see you, and you’d have to crane your neck up to see him, which is honestly sad.

he doesn’t seem like he’d be hard to deal with, though.

he’d just sort of, not really mention the difference.

EPEL FELMIER

short people solidarity WOO!!!

he’d be shaking, crying, shitting, literally all the bodily functions, when he first meets you.

there’s someone in the school who is shorter than him!!

he’d be helping you grab things from shelves, resting his arm on your shoulder or head, and other things.

literally anything to validate himself in the fact he is taller than someone his age.

he’d tease you for being short, but if anyone full-on bullied you about it, he’d beat them up.

lmao.

the day you wear heels that make you taller than him is the day of his downfall.

SEBEK ZIGVOLT

okay, we have to remember what he grew up being taught, alright?

this man is a KNIGHT. bro is CHIVALROUS.

regardless of your height, he’d be helping you carry and grab stuff.

but when you’re short— and much shorter than him—, his, uh, coddling is amped up a bit.

“as a knight, i must protect you! especially because you are so harmless!”

you, who literally survived through multiple overblots: 🧍.

it’s sweet, though.

the effort is definitely there! 

[lotuswish]

˗ˏˋ what they gift you for valentine’s day 𐙚 .ᐟ

synopsis: valentine’s day means something different to each of them—some treat it like a grand romantic event, others act like it’s just another friday, and a few are probably panicking last-minute. but whatever they give you, one thing’s for sure: it’s undeniably them, for better or worse.

featured character(s): lilia vanrouge, malleus draconia, silver, sebek zigvolt, leona kingscholar, ruggie bucchi, jack howl, vil schoenheit, rook hunt, epel felmier, jamil viper, kalim al-asim, riddle rosehearts, cater diamond, trey clover, ace trappola, deuce spade, azul ashengrotto, jade leech, floyd leech, idia shroud, no ortho shroud

content warning(s): none!

a/n: happy valentine’s day! ❤️

link(s): (masterlist)

an overly extravagant display of affection

why settle for one gift when he could give everything? a sea of roses flooding your dorm, an entire box—no, several boxes—of gold-wrapped chocolates, or even fireworks painting your name across the night sky. to him, valentine’s day isn’t just about romance—it’s a stage, a perfect excuse to turn his feelings into something grand. love, in his eyes, should be seen, felt, and impossible to ignore. he doesn’t believe in halfway gestures; if he adores you, the world will know it.

⤷ kalim, malleus, rook

a single, meaningful item that shows they know you

this isn’t just a generic valentine’s day gift—it’s something that proves he listens. something small you once mentioned in passing, something he went out of his way to track down, something that perfectly aligns with your tastes in a way that leaves you wondering just how long he’s been paying attention. maybe it’s a first-edition book from your favorite author, a piece of jewelry that fits your aesthetic so well it feels like he had to have spent time picking it out, or a limited-edition item from a brand you once mentioned offhandedly. it’s not about extravagance—it’s about thoughtfulness, about making sure you know he sees you.

⤷ idia, jade, jamil, leona, ruggie, vil

a carefully crafted, handwritten letter

it's more than just a few words hastily jotted down onto a card—this is a letter, deliberate and meticulously composed. every word is chosen with purpose, every stroke of ink placed with careful intent, as if he agonized over each line, rewriting certain sentences more times than he’d ever admit. it feels less like a simple valentine's note and more like a confession woven into ink, every phrase carrying the weight of emotions he might struggle to voice aloud. this gift is more than a simple gesture—it’s a glimpse into the feelings he’s likely held onto far longer than he ever intended.

⤷ malleus, riddle, rook

a bouquet, but with intention

it’s not just about flowers—it’s about what they mean. this isn’t some store-bought, last-minute bouquet; every bloom has been deliberately chosen, each one carrying a message. roses for love, lilacs for first emotions, camellias for admiration—there’s no need for him to say anything outright because the meaning is woven into every petal. whether he expects you to recognize the symbolism or not, the sentiment is there, tucked between soft petals and carefully arranged stems. and if you do look up the meanings? you’ll see everything he couldn’t quite put into words.

⤷ cater, epel, trey,

jewelry, meant to be worn always

it’s not flashy or excessive, but it’s meant to last. a necklace, a bracelet, a ring—something simple but chosen with care, something that feels right for you. the weight of it is subtle but constant, a quiet reminder of him no matter where you are. he won’t say it outright, but the thought of you wearing something from him every day pleases him. and if anyone asks where you got it? well, he wouldn’t mind hearing you say his name in response.

⤷ floyd, jamil, leona, lilia, ruggie, sebek

a luxurious experience rather than an object

he sees no reason to limit valentine’s day to just a material gift—not when he could give you a memory. a private dinner under candlelight, an exclusive event, a perfect evening where every little thing has been arranged so you don’t have to lift a finger. it’s not just about extravagance (well, maybe partially); it’s about making sure you feel special, about ensuring this night is one you won’t forget. to him, valentine’s day isn’t about what you receive—it’s about how he can make you feel.

⤷ azul, jade, kalim, malleus, rook, vil

handmade, because it means more that way

he could have just bought something, but that wouldn’t have meant enough. instead, he put in the time and effort himself. maybe it’s a home-cooked meal, carefully prepared with your favorite flavors in mind, or a bouquet he arranged by hand rather than picking something up from a florist. maybe it’s a small carved trinket, a handcrafted piece of jewelry, or even a carefully stitched charm meant to bring you luck. perfection isn’t the goal—it’s the sincerity, the intention behind giving you something that holds a part of him.

⤷ deuce, epel, jack, jamil, silver, trey

something playful, because love should be fun

who says valentine’s day has to be serious? he doesn’t just want to give you a gift—he wants to make you laugh. maybe it’s a ridiculously oversized plushie, one so big you practically have to wrestle it through your door. maybe it’s a scavenger hunt, little notes leading you to the actual gift just to watch you figure it out. maybe it’s a box of chocolates with one secretly filled with something spicy, just to see your reaction. love doesn’t always have to be grand or serious—sometimes, it’s just about enjoying each other’s company.

⤷ ace, cater, epel, floyd, lilia, ruggie

something simple, but given with genuine care

he doesn’t make a big deal out of valentine’s day, and he doesn’t see the point in overcomplicating things. what matters is that he thought of you. a warm cup of your favorite drink waiting for you in the morning, a carefully wrapped box of chocolates, a small charm for luck. he won’t make a scene about it, but there’s something undeniably sweet about how naturally he makes sure you’re taken care of.

⤷ deuce, idia, jack, jamil, sebek, silver

congrats on making it to the end! if you enjoyed this, likes, comments, follows, and reblogs are always appreciated—they help motivate me to keep creating and sharing!

[twisted-writing]

For Anonymous

Who asked: Hello😁! Can you make some platonic headcanons for Carter, Trey, Jade, Floyd and Malleus about how they would react if they saw a student getting angry with their friend Yuu (female if possible) and grabbing her by the collar of her clothes threatening to hit her?

——————————————————————

POV: FIRST PERSON

Characters: Female!reader, Cater Diamond, Trey Clover, Jade Leech, Floyd Leech, Malleus Draconia

WC: 416

Note: I might write future headcanon posts like this since it’s an easier format for me.

•There’s no way that Cater would allow you, the person already on the fast track to becoming his best friend, after all the both of you had spent hours together discussing the perfect aesthetic for selfies on Magicam! So when he sees you about to get hit, he immediately steps in and the look on his face? It’s something that you and the student who had threatened to hit you will never forget.•

•Like Cater, Trey wouldn’t allow you, the one who spends all his time trading recipes to get hit. He would even take the hit for you, causing you to fret with worry over him and the student to go pale. So pale that it looks like they might faint, since they did strike an upperclassman, a vice dorm leader at that, and the consequences aren’t kind to them at all.•

•Floyd wouldn’t hesitate to squeeze the unfortunate soul who thought that they could try to hit you with no one else seemingly around. You’re his shrimpy! His best friend! The one who matches his chaos unlike anyone else, other than his twin, Jade.•

•…Speaking of Jade. He, like Floyd, wouldn’t hesitate to squeeze the unfortunate soul who thought that you were unprotected. He does it all with a calm smile that never disappears, in fact it only grows as he threatens them with unspeakable consequences if they come anywhere near you. After all, you’re the only person who has delicious recipes for tea as well the tips you had given him for his mushrooms terrarium allows them to really thrive.•

•Malleus doesn’t take well to those dear to him being threatened in anyway and that includes you. The person who actually chooses to interact with him. The person who isn’t afraid of him. Who actually finds his his facts about gargoyles to be the most interesting thing that you’ve ever heard, which isn’t a lie since you do in fact find them to be interesting as well as fascinating.•

[solxamber]

Receiving Gifts on White Day with: Heartslabyul

Go here for other dorms

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle stands at your doorstep, posture straight as a ruler, cheeks pink, and hands clutching a meticulously wrapped box like he’s been assigned a life-or-death mission. You blink, still groggy from sleep, while he clears his throat with the dignity of a man attempting to keep his emotions regulated.

“I have prepared this for you,” he announces, voice firm, yet slightly trembling. “In accordance with White Day traditions, as well as my personal desire to properly return the affection you displayed last month.”

You arch an eyebrow. “So… this is a strictly enforced romantic gesture?”

His grip tightens on the box. “I wanted to do this,” he corrects, though the fact that he appears two questions away from passing out begs to differ.

Still, curiosity gets the best of you. You accept the box, carefully unwrapping it, and—wait. These are homemade cookies.

Your eyes snap to Riddle. "You made these?"

“Yes,” he admits, looking only mildly tortured. “It… took several attempts.”

Several? The image of Riddle in an apron, staring down an oven timer like it personally offended him, flashes in your mind. You take a bite—soft, lightly sweet, with a hint of strawberries.

“These are amazing,” you say honestly, watching as his ears flush even redder.

Riddle exhales, relief washing over him like a well-structured legal argument. “I am… glad.”

Then, just as you’re about to pull him inside for a proper reward, he straightens and adds, “Also, do not share them with Ace or Deuce. I refuse to let my efforts be squandered on them.”

You snort, deciding to absolutely share one with Ace just to watch Riddle scold him about "unearned privilege."

Trey Clover

Trey stands at your door, looking so effortlessly charming that it should be illegal. In his hands is a basket, wrapped in soft ribbons, smelling so good that you’re nearly tempted to take it and shut the door just to hoard it all.

“Morning,” he greets, his voice warm enough to make you forget that it’s way too early to be receiving this level of boyfriend energy. “Thought I’d make you something special for White Day.”

You cross your arms, pretending to scrutinize the basket. “And this isn’t just because you feel obligated to return the favor?”

Trey chuckles, stepping closer—dangerously close. “Nah. I just like spoiling you.”

…Oh. Oh. Your brain immediately enters critical failure mode.

He hands over the basket, filled with handcrafted chocolates, cookies, and—oh, hold on. Is that a mini cake? You lift it, noting the delicate frosting swirls, and Trey watches you with that mildly smug, incredibly dangerous smile.

“I remembered you liked the cake I'd made last week,” he says, like it’s a casual thing and not an instantaneous relationship score multiplier.

You take a bite. It’s divine. You meet his gaze, absolutely smitten. “Trey, this is actually illegal. I could fall in love all over again.”

His smirk deepens. “Guess I’ll have to keep making them, then.”

You pause. Narrow your eyes. “Was this a secret proposal?”

Trey laughs, resting a hand on your waist to gently pull you closer. “If it was, you’d be the first to know.”

Oh, he’s good. You take another bite of cake to distract from how fast your heart is beating.

Cater Diamond

Before you even fully register being awake, someone pushes your door open.

“BABE, WAKE UP, IT’S WHITE DAY!”

Cater is there, standing in a power pose, holding up a pastel-colored gift bag like it’s a declaration of war. You blink at him. Blink at the bag. Then back at him.

“…Cay. What the actual hell.”

He grins, stepping inside before you can protest. “Shhh, just accept my love and devotion, okay?”

You take the bag on instinct, still trying to process why your morning has started like this. Inside, you find chocolates—and a small Polaroid. You pull it out. It’s of you two, mid-laugh, clearly taken without your knowledge.

You glance up. Cater is watching you—actually nervous. “Sooo, I was thinking… maybe we could take a pic every White Day? Y’know, to make it a thing.”

Oh.

Your heart aches at how casually sweet he is. You smile, running a thumb over the picture. “I love it.”

His face lights up. “Knew you’d say that!” Then, before you can react, he dramatically dips you, snaps another photo, and grins.

“I swear, I’m gonna be the #1 Boyfriend this year.”

You laugh, shoving his shoulder. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but I’m your ridiculous.”

And damn it, you really love him.

Ace Trappola

Ace stands at your door like a man who has just been coerced into doing something cute.

He shoves a small bag at you, face slightly pink. “Here. White Day. Whatever.”

You take it, raising an eyebrow. “Wow. Such romance. My heart is pounding.”

Ace groans. “Just open it, nerd.”

Inside, you find chocolates—clearly homemade—and, oh. A plushie. Of your favorite character.

Your heart stutters. “You actually paid attention?”

Ace scowls, ears red. “DUH? What kinda boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?”

You smirk, taking a chocolate. Then, before he can react, you grab his face and press a quick kiss to his cheek.

Immediate fatal error.

Ace short-circuits, stumbling back like he’s been shot. “WH—WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!”

You grin. “What, kissing my boyfriend? Weird.”

He groans, covering his face. “I hate you.”

You pop another chocolate into your mouth. “Nah. You love me.”

Ace mutters something about needing a refund, but the way he’s grinning says otherwise.

Deuce stands at your door, holding a small box with both hands, shoulders so tense you think he might pass out.

“H-Happy White Day!” he blurts, voice borderline panicked.

You blink. “Are you okay?”

"YES." He is not okay.

You accept the box, opening it to find slightly uneven, homemade chocolates. You take a bite—rich, a little messy, but full of effort.

“These are amazing,” you say, smiling.

Deuce exhales so hard it sounds like his soul left his body. “Oh, thank seven, I thought I ruined them—”

Before he can spiral, you grab his collar and kiss him.

System crash.

Deuce staggers back, bright red. “Y-YOU CAN’T JUST—THAT’S CHEATING—”

You grin. “Better get used to it.”

He groans, face in his hands. “I’m never recovering from this.”

Perfect. You win White Day.

Masterlist

[positively-mine]

You’re a girl?!

how the twst boys find out you’re a girl & their reactions

tags: afab, accidental touches

a/n: very much self indulgent BUT I COUNDNT STOP THINKING 🤔 what if because it was a boys school that they didn’t have skirts and basically Crowley just made you wear the uniform & you didn't tell anyone. Like epel and lilia’s case, they just thought you were a feminine guy (p.s I just started and I haven’t read any spoilers, except for some info from reddit so I’m very sorry if this has already been covered/ revealed) very gacha coded but PLSSSSS bear this brain rot with me

Some spoilers: until book 3

Series: ❤️ 🧡 🩵 💛 💜 💙 💚

Ace

This can go two ways. Firstly, is that he was chasing deuce or Grimm around and you happen to be walking around the corner. And BAM. You’re both on the ground with him on top of you, caging you into his arms. With both his hands conveniently placed on two lumps on your chest. It takes him a good 3 seconds of staring and squeezing before he realises what they are. What you are. Immediately feels embarrassed and starts screaming and scarmbling to get up.

Orrr he has gotten so used to coming into ramshackle house as he pleases and barges into your room without knocking. You’re both guys, so what’s the problem? Big mistake. Because you’re changing and literally only in your under garments. He’s all red and hot faced before he’s running out of your room and the house into the walkway to calm himself down.

The next time he faces you, he’s apologising while avoiding eye contact. He knows you’ve been through thick and thin together but it really did feel as though his whole world view was shattered when he found out. When he’s hanging out with you, he’s much more careful of where he places his hand and tries to look out for you. Definitely tried to act more manly as well, like when there's an overblot about to happen he either pushes you behind him or blocks you with his body..

Deuce

The way i see this going down is that he’s got his gangster mode on from whatever trouble he’s gotten himself into (or for convenience sake; the broken eggs in book 1). And he’s trying to push you away to stop you from stopping HIM from picking a fight. And something soft hits his forearm. He turns to look at you chest before he quickly realises. He’s screaming like a banshee while moving as far away as he can from you. The initial quarrel was forgotten and now his head is spinning. Thoughts like “what would my mother think if she knew what i did??”, “HES A GIRL?! I MEAN SHE” and so on. The walk back to the kitchen is so quiet that you could basically hear Grimm’s grumbling all the way from Heartsbyul kitchen. Once you arrived back at the kitchen, the guys are wondering why its so quiet between you two but pay no mind to it.

He gets awkward around you every once in a while when realises how close the two of you are but still tries to make up for it. Also becomes more diligent in trying to withhold his gangster personality. He doesn’t want to show anymore of his nasty side to you when he can show you how well he can treat you. Lest he wants to lose you to some other guys…

Trey

This one's tough. I don't know if he has sisters so let's just say that he has. He's one of the first few to realize that you're a girl, being the ever observant person that he is. He sees the pattern when you start getting a little bit more emotional than you are. Snapping at Adeuce and Grimm when you're usually much more patient, getting upset at small things or when he catches you tearing up when you talk about returning to your own world. Yeah he definitely knows.

So it's no surprise when you start to receive more baked treats from him and he's piling up all sorts of nutritious food onto your plate when you sit together. The others are wondering why he's doing that when you're capable of doing it yourself. It's only after several months of this treatment that you realize he knows that you're a girl. And when you confront him about it, "I can't help but want to take care of you when I see you".

Riddle

I like to think that you’re having tea together. He’s invited you to another one of their dorm’s many reason to have tea. Grimm and Ace are fighting for the last cookie and accidentally knock into you as you pick up your teacup. Splashing the liquid all over your dress shirt. Riddle is of course, furious. Rule #363, never spill your tea. Especially on a Tuesday. He’s screaming at them both when his eyes move to check if you’re okay. And that’s when he sees some blue peeking out at the wet area of your shirt. It takes him a quick second to march over to you and drape his blazer over you. “You should go back and change. Make sure to take a warm bath unless you want to catch a cold.” You nod at him confusedly. He watches as you make your way down the steps. He turns to the rest of the members with pink tinted cheeks. “Unfortunately this tea party will have to be cancelled,” and he quickly turns back to walk to his dorm before anyone can say anything.

The next time you see him, his cheeks are tinted pink and he’s trying very hard to not make eye contact with you. Overall, most of your relationship stays the same except that he’s inviting you over for tea more often. But this time its just the two of you. And his excuse? It changes every time. Sometimes its because he says he wants to talk about Adeuce and Grimm’s behaviour, and sometimes it’s because he wants your thoughts on which tea set is better.

Cater

For his case, it's not that he found out, rather he overheard it from a rowdy pair of first years and a cat. He was walking to his next class and about to turn around the corner when he overheard their not so very hushed conversation. His eyes widen very similarly to the saucers that they use for tea. He's kind of upset that he didn't find out himself, but learned it through someone else. Oh well. It's a win-win situation for him anyways.

So when he starts being much more clingier to you and offering to walk you to your classes do you start to get suspicious. He’s always coming over to sit together at your table and visiting you at Ramshackle more. Lounging on the beaten up sofa while you do whatever work you have to. Keeping you company for as long as he can. Or at least until Riddle calls him back or you kick him out. Whichever comes first.

Now imagine there’s a celebration of some sort and he’s excitedly running up the steps to Ramshackle to formally invite you as his date. “I’ve got a surprise for you,” he smiles cheekily. And from behind him he pulls out a beautiful dress. “Will you be my date?” No misunderstanding his gestures now.

reblogs appreciated!

[strawberry-bubblef]

Zaunite reader x Heartslabyul

Request by anonymous: Maybe how about a headcanons with Yuu who is born and raised in Zaun? Most importantly how would cast reacts to Zaun's environment once Yuu trusts them enough to tell about it? (Or maybe cast would see for themselves somehow?)

Synopsis: You have always kept your past a secret, but as their relationships deepen, the truth about Zaun slowly unravels. A city of smog, struggle, and survival far from the world of NRC. How will their lover react to the harsh reality You once called home? And more importantly, can they bring comfort to the one who endured it all?

Gender neutral reader

Warnings: ⚠Mentions of poverty, crime, substance abuse (shimmer), survival struggles, and environmental pollution. The setting of Zaun includes themes of danger, societal disparity, and rough living conditions. Reader's past involves hardships, but the story focuses on comfort, understanding, and romance.⚠

Since you didn't specify her past,I'm just gonna assume that she's an orphan like 99% of the Zaunite cast.

Heartslabyul,Savanaclaw, Octavinelle,Scarabia Pomifiore, Ignhyde, Diasominia

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle never imagined life could be anything but orderly. His world had always been one of rules and discipline, of neatly trimmed rose bushes and perfectly arranged tea parties. The idea of chaos, of living without a clear structure to follow, was something he had never truly comprehended,until you.

When you first mentioned Zaun, it was almost in passing, like it was just another place on a map. But as your words lingered, as you spoke of the smog-choked streets, the towering factories that never stopped churning, and the ever-present desperation that filled the air, Riddle realized that Zaun was not just a place. It was a battlefield, a world that had shaped you in ways he couldn’t yet understand.

At first, he didn’t know how to respond. The thought of you, his beloved, having to fight for survival in a place where lawlessness reigned,it was almost too much to bear. He had spent so much of his life believing that rules were what kept people safe, that strict order was the key to happiness. But your existence, your very survival, was proof that life didn’t always work that way. He wanted to understand, to know what it truly meant to have grown up in a place so vastly different from what he knew.

So when the opportunity arose, when he found himself in Zaun with you leading the way, Riddle braced himself for the unknown. Yet, no amount of mental preparation could have truly readied him for what he saw. The moment you stepped into the city, you seemed to melt into the shadows, walking with a confidence that only someone who had lived here could possess. Riddle, however, was rigid beside you, his crimson eyes darting around at the unfamiliar sights. The streets were narrow and winding, the air thick with the scent of chemicals and burning metal. People moved quickly, their faces guarded, their steps calculated. He had never felt so out of place.

You turned back to him, your expression softening at the sight of his furrowed brow. “It’s overwhelming, isn’t it?” you murmured, taking his hand. Riddle’s fingers twitched at the contact, his grip tightening as if he feared losing you in the crowd.

“This… this place…” he struggled to find the words, his voice uncharacteristically unsteady. “It’s nothing like I imagined.” He had expected disorder, but this was something else entirely. It was a world that thrived on resilience, where people didn’t wait for permission to live.

You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I know it’s a lot. But this is home, Riddle. Or at least, it was.”

He swallowed thickly, his heart twisting at the thought. The idea that you had once walked these streets as a child, vulnerable and unprotected, sent a sharp pang through his chest. He had spent so much of his life believing that rules were what made a person strong. But now, seeing you move with unwavering certainty through a world so unforgiving, he realized that strength wasn’t always about following rules,it was about surviving in spite of them.

That night, when you finally led him somewhere quieter, somewhere safer, Riddle couldn’t stop the thoughts that swirled in his mind. You had spoken of Zaun with such ease, but now that he had seen it, truly seen it, he understood that it had shaped you in ways he had yet to comprehend. He lay beside you, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.

“You’re thinking too much again,” you whispered, rolling over to face him. Your fingers found their way into his hair, combing through the soft strands in slow, comforting motions. Riddle stiffened at first, but slowly, his body relaxed under your touch.

“I just… I don’t understand how you do it,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “How you lived through all of that… how you still smile, still love despite everything.”

You gave him a small, knowing smile. “Because I had to. Because I wanted to. And because, no matter how hard life was, I knew there was something worth fighting for.”

Riddle turned to face you fully, his gaze searching yours for answers he wasn’t sure he’d ever find. “I don’t want you to carry this alone,” he murmured, his voice filled with unspoken promises. “You don’t have to anymore.”

Your heart ached at the sincerity in his eyes. You had spent so much of your life fending for yourself, believing that no one could truly understand the weight of your past. But here he was, holding you as if you were something fragile yet infinitely precious.

A small smile tugged at your lips. “I know,” you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “I have you now.”

And for the first time in a long while, the weight of Zaun’s past didn’t feel so heavy. Because with Riddle by your side, you finally felt like you had a place to rest. A place where you were safe.

Where you were loved.

Ace Trappola

Ace had always known you were different. It wasn’t just the way you carried yourself or the way you spoke,it was the way your eyes scanned a room like you were always searching for exits, the way your body tensed at loud noises that others barely noticed. At first, he thought you were just cautious, maybe even a little paranoid. But when you finally told him where you were from, it all started to make sense.

Zaun. A city that sounded more like a warning than a home.

Ace had never really thought about what life was like outside of NRC, let alone outside of his own world. Sure, he’d heard of rough places, but nothing like the way you described Zaun. A city built underground, choking on its own fumes. A place where the weak got eaten alive and even the strong barely scraped by. The way you talked about it was almost casual, like it was just another fact about yourself. But Ace knew better,he saw the way your fingers tightened around your cup, the way your gaze flickered just slightly when you mentioned certain things.

At first, he tried to joke about it. “So, what, you were some kind of badass street punk or something?” He grinned, nudging your side. But when you didn’t immediately laugh, when you just gave him a small, tired smile, the weight of your words hit him in a way he wasn’t prepared for.

“…Wait, seriously?” His grin faltered. “You actually had to fight to survive?”

You leaned back, exhaling softly. “It’s not like I had a choice, Ace.”

That shut him up real quick.

For once, he didn’t have a witty remark. Didn’t have some teasing comment to throw at you. Because, damn. You’d really lived through all that? The thought made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

Ace didn’t like thinking about things too deeply,he was more of a ‘go with the flow’ kind of guy. But now, the more he looked at you, the more he realized just how much he didn’t know about you. Sure, he knew the now,the way you laughed at his dumb jokes, the way you rolled your eyes when he got too cocky, the way you somehow always managed to keep him in check without actually bossing him around. But the before? That was something he had never even thought to ask about.

And now that he knew… well, let’s just say it hit him harder than he expected.

So, when he somehow found himself standing in the middle of Zaun, courtesy of some magic mishap, he quickly realized that he was way out of his depth.

The first thing that hit him was the air,it was thick, heavy with the scent of oil, metal, and something acrid that made his throat burn. The sky above was murky, covered in a haze of smoke and neon lights. People moved fast, their faces set in hard expressions, their eyes scanning him like they were sizing him up. Ace wasn’t used to that. At NRC, he was usually the one throwing people off their game, always one step ahead with a smirk on his lips. But here? Here, he felt like fresh meat in a lion’s den.

“Okay. Yeah. This place is definitely sketchy,” he muttered under his breath.

You chuckled beside him. “Told you.”

He turned to you, ready to make some sarcastic remark, but the words died in his throat when he saw the way you stood,calm, confident, completely at ease in a place that made his skin crawl.

Ace had seen you fight before. He knew you could handle yourself. But watching you here, in your element, was something else entirely. You moved like you belonged, like you knew every dark alley and every hidden danger before they even appeared. And maybe you did.

That realization hit him like a punch to the gut.

You had grown up here. Survived here.

Shit.

Ace had always known you were strong, but now he was starting to understand just how strong.

That night, when you finally found a quiet place to rest, he was still trying to wrap his head around everything. He sat beside you, his usual carefree grin nowhere to be seen. Instead, he just… stared at you for a long moment, like he was seeing you for the first time.

“You good?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

He huffed, leaning back on his hands. “I dunno. Kinda feel like an idiot for not asking about this sooner.”

You tilted your head. “What do you mean?”

Ace let out a breath, ruffling his hair. “I just… I never really thought about where you came from, y’know? I mean, I knew you had it rough, but actually seeing this place? It’s a whole different thing.” He glanced at you, his usual playfulness replaced by something quieter. “I guess I just feel kinda stupid for never realizing how much you’ve been through.”

Your expression softened. “You didn’t need to know all that to care about me, Ace.”

“Yeah, but—” He groaned, flopping back onto the makeshift bed. “Ugh, this sucks. You’re way cooler than me, you know that?”

You blinked before snorting. “Is that really what you’re taking from this?”

He turned his head to look at you, his grin returning, though it was softer this time. “I mean, yeah. Here I was thinking I was the troublemaker, but turns out my partner’s the real badass.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

He reached out, tugging you down beside him. You let out a small yelp as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his warmth. His usual teasing was still there, but there was something else too something real. His grip was just a little tighter, his touch lingering just a little longer.

“Hey,” he murmured, resting his chin atop your head. “For real, though. I don’t care where you came from. I don’t care how rough things used to be. You’re here now. With me. And I don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon.”

Your heart ached at the sincerity in his voice. You had never needed saving,Zaun had made sure of that. But knowing that someone wanted to stand beside you, wanted to stay no matter what… that was something else entirely.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself relax in his embrace. “I know.”

Ace smirked. “Good. ‘Cause I’d hate to go through all this emotional crap just for you to run off.”

You smacked his arm, and he laughed, pulling you closer. The neon lights of Zaun flickered outside, but for once, you didn’t feel trapped by them. Because in Ace’s arms, for the first time in a long while, you felt like you had something worth holding onto.

Something worth staying for.

Deuce Spade !

Deuce had always known you were tough. From the way your eyes sharpened in tense situations, it was clear that you had seen things most people hadn’t. But when you finally told him where you came from,Zaun everything clicked into place.

He listened intently as you explained what your home was like. The smog-choked streets, the neon signs flickering against metal buildings, the constant hum of machinery filling the air. You spoke about it with a mix of fondness and bitterness, your words laced with memories of struggle.

Deuce didn’t know what to say at first. He wasn’t good with words, and honestly, he wasn’t sure if anything he said would be enough. So he just held your hand, squeezing it tightly.

“…It sounds rough,” he finally murmured, his voice quieter than usual.

You chuckled, though there was no real humor in it. “That’s one way to put it.”

From that moment on, Deuce started paying more attention. The way you flinched ever so slightly at sudden loud noises, how your shoulders tensed when someone stood too close, how your instincts always seemed one step ahead of everyone else’s. It made his heart ache.

And then, by some twist of fate, he found himself in Zaun.

The first thing that hit him was the air. It was thick, heavy with the scent of oil and metal, making it hard to breathe. The streets were dimly lit, neon signs casting eerie glows over damp cobblestones. People moved fast, their eyes sharp and guarded, their hands always close to their pockets,ready to defend, ready to run.

Deuce felt out of place.

His uniform was too clean, his movements too stiff. He stuck out like a sore thumb, and he knew it. His fists clenched instinctively, the old delinquent in him screaming at him to be ready for anything.

Then he looked at you.

You stood beside him, completely at ease. You navigated the streets like you belonged,because you did. While Deuce felt overwhelmed, you looked… at home.

It hit him then.

You had grown up in this. In these streets, in this constant tension, in this world where survival meant being two steps ahead.

Deuce swallowed hard, his heart pounding.

He had always thought of himself as strong. But now, seeing where you had come from, he realized,you were the strong one.

That night, after finally finding a safe place to rest, he couldn’t stay quiet anymore. He sat beside you, his usual confident expression replaced with something more uncertain.

“…How did you do it?” he asked suddenly.

You raised an eyebrow. “Do what?”

Deuce exhaled, ruffling his hair. “Survive here. Grow up here.” He turned to face you, his blue eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite place. “This place… it’s dangerous. It’s harsh. But you—” His jaw tightened. “You made it through all of this. How?”

You stared at him for a moment before giving a small shrug. “I had to.”

Deuce frowned. “That’s not an answer.”

You sighed, leaning back against the wall. “I fought. I stole when I had to. I ran when I couldn’t win. I learned to pick my battles.” You paused, glancing at him. “Same way you did, right?”

His breath caught.

Because you were right.

Deuce hadn’t grown up in a place like Zaun, but he knew what it was like to fight. To struggle. To feel like the world was stacked against him.

“…Yeah,” he admitted.

You smiled slightly. “Then you get it.”

Deuce was quiet for a long moment before he reached out, gently taking your hand in his. His grip was warm, steady,comforting.

“I don’t want you to go through that again,” he said softly.

You blinked. “Deuce—”

“I mean it.” He looked at you, his expression serious. “I know you don’t need me to protect you. You’re strong. You’ve always been strong. But…” He swallowed. “I still want to.”

Your chest ached at his words.

Because you knew. You had survived Zaun on your own, but now? Now, there was someone who wanted to stand beside you. Who wanted to shield you from a world that had already taken so much from you.

You leaned into him, resting your forehead against his shoulder. “You’re an idiot.”

Deuce chuckled, squeezing your hand. “Yeah. But I’m your idiot.”

You smiled, closing your eyes.

And for the first time in a long while, you felt safe.

Trey Clover !

Trey had always known that you were careful.

It was in the way you carried yourself calm, careful, always observing. You had this edge to you, this quiet awareness that never seemed to fade, even in the safety of Night Raven College. At first, he thought it was just your personality. But as he spent more time with you, he noticed the little things.

How you never sat with your back to a door.

How your steps were always light, controlled, ready to move in an instant.

How you scanned a room the second you entered, like you were mapping out exits.

Trey was patient. He never pushed, never pried. He just stayed close, letting you set the pace. And eventually, when you were ready, you told him.

You told him about Zaun.

About the smog-filled streets, the makeshift homes stacked on top of each other, the neon glow that never quite hid the darkness beneath. About the baron that ruled the alleys, the shimmer addicts slumped against walls, the fights that broke out over scraps of food.

You didn’t sugarcoat it.

Trey listened in silence, his usual gentle expression unreadable. And when you finished, he just exhaled slowly before pulling you into a hug.

“…That’s a lot,” he murmured.

You snorted against his chest. “Yeah.”

His arms tightened around you. “I can’t imagine what that was like. But I’m glad you’re here now.”

And he meant it.

But nothing could have prepared him for seeing it himself.

It wasn’t supposed to happen. You had no reason to go back. But somehow—through some twist of fate,Trey found himself standing in the middle of Zaun.

And for the first time in a long while, he felt completely out of place.

The air was thick, a strange metallic taste settling on his tongue. The streets were alive with movement, people rushing past, their gazes sharp and wary. The flickering neon lights cast eerie glows on cracked pavement, and every corner seemed to hide something dangerous.

He didn’t belong here.

He felt it in the way people looked at him,like he was a mark, someone too clean, too easy to take advantage of. Trey had been in rough neighborhoods before, but nothing like this.

Then he looked at you.

You moved through the streets effortlessly, slipping past people without a second thought. You didn’t hesitate, didn’t flinch. This was your home.

And suddenly, Trey saw you in a new light.

Not just as the person who teased him in the kitchen, who stole bites of his pastries when he wasn’t looking. But as someone who had survived in a place that chewed people up and spit them out.

His stomach twisted.

How many times had you gone to sleep hungry?

How many fights had you been in just to keep yourself safe?

How many nights had you wondered if you’d even see the morning?

Trey didn’t like thinking about it.

That night, when you finally found a place to rest, he sat beside you in silence. He hadn’t said much since you arrived, and you noticed.

“…You okay?” you asked.

Trey sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know.” He glanced around. “This place… it’s rough.”

You huffed. “Yeah. But it’s home.”

Trey looked at you, his green eyes softening. “I get that. I just…” His voice trailed off before he shook his head. “I wish you didn’t have to grow up like this.”

You blinked.

You had expected pity, maybe even discomfort. But Trey just sounded… sad.

You leaned against him, letting your head rest on his shoulder. “I didn’t have a choice,” you murmured.

“I know.” His voice was quiet. “But it still doesn’t sit right with me.”

For a while, neither of you spoke. Then Trey exhaled, a small smile playing on his lips. “Y’know, I bet the people here would love my pastries.”

You snorted. “They’d rob you before you even finished setting up a stall.”

“Then I’d just have to bake fast enough to keep up.” He nudged you gently. “Bet I could win them over with a good tart.”

You rolled your eyes, but your lips twitched. “You’re ridiculous.”

Trey chuckled. “Maybe. But if we’re ever back here again, I’m making you something sweet. No arguments.”

You tilted your head, watching him.

Even here, in a place that was so far from his world, he still found ways to make you feel warm. Safe. Loved.

You reached out, intertwining your fingers with his. “You’re too good for this place.”

He squeezed your hand. “Maybe. But I’d still follow you anywhere.”

Your chest ached at his words.

Zaun had never been kind to you. But with Trey beside you, it didn’t feel so heavy anymore.

Maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as alone as you thought.

Cater Diamond !

Cater had always known you were different.

Not in a bad way,if anything, it made you more interesting. There was something about you that drew him in, something sharp and unshaken, like you had already seen the worst life had to offer and come out standing.

And that was intriguing.

At first, he chalked it up to you being a little reserved, a little more observant than the average NRC student. But then, he started noticing things.

The way you never fully relaxed in crowded places.

The way you always positioned yourself near an exit.

The way your eyes flicked to people's hands before their faces, like you were checking for threats.

It wasn’t just street smarts. It was survival.

But Cater wasn’t one to pry. He just smiled, played along, made jokes to see if he could get you to laugh. And eventually, you let him in.

You told him about Zaun.

The undercity, the toxic air, the towering factories that never stopped running. The gangs that ran entire districts, the shimmer dens hidden in plain sight, the people who learned to fight young or didn’t last long.

Cater had been expecting something dark, but not this dark.

He didn’t interrupt, didn’t joke. He just listened, his usual playful expression giving way to something softer, more serious. And when you finally stopped talking, he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours.

“Whoa,” he murmured. “And I thought my home life was rough.”

You huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah, well. You get used to it.”

His fingers curled around yours, holding on tight. “Doesn’t mean you should’ve had to.”

And for once, you didn’t have a response.

But hearing about Zaun was one thing. Seeing it was another.

Cater had always prided himself on adapting to any situation, on blending in wherever he went. But here? Here, he did not belong.

The second you stepped into Zaun, it was like entering a different world. The air was heavy, thick with pollution, and the neon lights flickering overhead barely cut through the smog. The streets were damp, filled with the scent of oil, metal, and something chemical that made his head feel light.

It was overwhelming.

For once, Cater wasn’t sure how to act. He could feel the stares, the way people sized him up in an instant. It was the kind of attention he didn’t like,the kind that made his skin crawl.

Then he looked at you.

And you? You weren’t fazed at all.

You moved through the streets with practiced ease, dodging a broken pipe here, slipping past a group of people there. You didn’t hesitate, didn’t second-guess. This was home to you.

Cater had always thought of you as cool, but now? Now, he was just in awe.

At some point, he grabbed your wrist, holding on just tight enough to let you know he was there. He didn’t say anything, didn’t complain about the air or the way his head was starting to pound. He just followed you.

And when you finally stopped, finding a place where the two of you could breathe, he let out a breathless laugh.

“Okay, I definitely underestimated what you meant by ‘Zaun is rough.’”

You smirked, leaning against the wall. “Told you.”

Cater shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “No, like—this place is next level crazy.” He exhaled, glancing around. “And you grew up in this?”

“Yeah.”

“…Damn.” He whistled low, looking at you with something different in his gaze. It wasn’t pity, wasn’t discomfort. It was admiration.

Because damn, you were strong.

Cater wasn’t the sentimental type, but something about this made his heart twist. You had survived all this, built yourself up from this, and somehow, you were still here. Still standing, still fighting.

And yet, you had let him in. Let him see this side of you.

That meant something.

“…You know,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter, “you don’t have to handle everything alone anymore.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Cater—”

“I mean it.” He stepped closer, his usual grin softer now. “You’re a total badass, no doubt. But if you ever wanna lean on someone? I’m right here.”

Your chest ached.

You had spent your whole life relying on yourself, on your instincts, on your ability to survive. And now, here was Caterbright, unpredictable, carefree Cater,offering you something you never thought you’d have.

You swallowed hard before nudging him lightly. “You’re too soft for this place.”

He chuckled, bumping his forehead against yours. “Maybe. But I’d follow you anywhere, babe.”

And you believed him.

For the first time, Zaun didn’t feel so cold.

Because with Cater beside you, even the darkest streets felt a little brighter.

English is not my first language !