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mrsackermannx · 2 years ago

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˚ ༘ *ೃ༄ ❝ COME BACK TO ME…❞

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ summary: gojo’s been plotting to get you back ever since you broke up.

୨୧ word count: 4.7k

୨୧ content: gojo satoru/reader, smut, no-curses au/office au, infidelity, exes to lovers, afab reader, light angst (strategic marriage/ breakup mentions), praise kink, porn with plot, love confession, overstimulation, pet names (baby, sweetheart etc), creampie, pussy-slapping, squirting, sprinkle of degradation, slight exhibitionism.

୨୧ author’s note: gojo brainrot finally gave way to some writing hehe, still getting used to characterising him so feedback is appreciated angels <3

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

"Don't shit where you eat," they say. They say that dating your colleague is never going to end well. However, even the most stoic people have a penchant for such relationships, not to mention the secret hopeless romantics.

Workplace romances can make even affairs appear heartwarmingly wholesome. After all, there was something about trudging up stair after stair when the elevator was too full to them smiling at you just a desk away. Their voice fond as they offer you a sunny "Good morning."

That person who never forgets your favourite vending machine coffee, who pats your shoulder and tells you 'you're doing your best,' who lends you their umbrella, who opens up to you over a beer after overtime. Who notices when you get a haircut, whose eyes are seldom on their computer screen but on your lips.

Not that you'd ever been unfaithful, not yet. But you'd heard countless stories. Girls talk, after all. You didn't judge, yet the point was although workplace romances could be wholesome and even sexually thrilling. They were sensational and exciting until they were over.

Until that person no longer stays with you through overtime, bitter memories of you chugging vending machine coffee, swapping candy and chips together and then spit just like you and Gojo always did. You definitely never told anyone how many times you fucked on the desks of the colleagues you both thought sucked, especially not after you'd broken up.

You were together for a while, and although you couldn't say it out loud because it was still too painful, you missed him. A lot. In fact, you spent most nights, fist screwed up at your sides, eyes blurring in the darkness, questioning if there would always be that void he left that no one could ever fill.

Though, breaking up didn't cause the type of animosity that made people scurry from rooms when you interacted. Instead, it confused the hell out of your colleagues. It hadn't even been half a year since, and you and Gojo didn't appear to hate each other at all.

But the pain lingering in your heart ached and was annoying and inconvenient, like a stubbed toe that felt sore and tender for weeks and weeks—but in your case, months. However, Gojo was hardly being subtle with his efforts to ever so secretly win you back at every opportunity. He didn't mind playing the long game. He was going to be your last.

All of you at the company came from important families in high social circles, marriage and dating. Love. It often came down to strategy, which was the only reason you were dating Miyano Haru, a Kyoto University graduate! CEO of a cybersecurity company!

Guilt gripped at your gut as you yawned at the thought.

Your families were shooting for a marriage ceremony during next year's cherry blossom season. But until then, Gojo wasn't slamming the brakes anytime soon.

Whether that be surprising you with your favourite lunches, leaving tickets for movie screenings, galleries, or museums on your desk, or sending Google calendar invites to restaurant reservations or spa appointments via your work emails across the office floor. With sweet messages like,

Gojo Satoru has sent a "Spa day pamper package for two for this Friday.”

Surprise! You look tired this week baby. Let's go here Friday, yeah?

Ps: You still look pretty, though.

Just like you were still fucking dating.

So today, when you're pitching a marketing idea in the monthly meeting, and Yaga cuts you off. Gojo cannot help himself.

Yaga was a great man, someone Gojo was grateful to for many reasons, but fuck was this man old-fashioned and unaware of it. He refused to see your potential because he was eternally sceptical of the efficacy of women's ideas.

But you had the best ideas today. Gojo smiled because your ideas were always the best and that’s why this decision was so easy. He could fondly recall your rants about Yaga after every monthly meeting where you'd complain about his blatant misogyny; even Sukuna would let a reluctant chuckle loose to the show.

All of you in the canteen at your table, Shoko, Utahime, Nobara and Maki at your side, growing passionate about gender pay gaps and audacious men at your company and then the world over.

Nanami always said the right thing, and so did Higuruma, Yuuta and Choso. Gojo decidedly took the credit for Megumi being so eloquent and respectful. Inumaki was outrageous at times, and Yuuji was a lover of all people and argued fiercely for both sides.

Those times were always fun.

Yaga peered over his glasses, "Why don't you expand again on how you plan to execute this idea, Reader?”

With one hand typing idly at his laptop and the other seating his chin, Gojo sighed so loudly all the eyes in the room cast to him. "Reader obviously has the best pitch for this project."

He grinned as Yaga's knuckles grew white and he humphed before his voice sharpened, "So, are we really gonna make her explain it again?"

"For once, even I agree with him," Toji added.

Gojo winked as he looked up at you, and you felt yourself melt a little, even under the icy breeze of the conference room's AC.

Megumi, Yuuji and Nobara huddled together under the oppressive communication Gojo and Yaga's eyes were engaging in.

Gojo’s eyes narrowed, "So, what are you waiting for? Give her the project."

Nanami offered you a small smile and nodded before his expression soured, and he spoke before Yaga could open his mouth to protest. "I, for once, also agree with Gojo. I think we should open this pitch up for a vote?"

Choso raised his arm, "Me too. I think it's just what we need, in fact."

Maki nudged Yuuta and Inumaki before confidently booming, "I volunteer our assistance on the project!"

Albeit a little flustered, you bowed and thanked the room as Yaga reluctantly signed the dream project of the company to you. Sure, you were ecstatic you'd finally been recognised for your hard work and dedication, but you wanted to kill Gojo.

What didn't help was the aggressively obvious effect he had on you still. Sure, you had a new boyfriend, but Gojo didn't care. So that's why you found yourself lingering outside of his office door at 9pm because you knew he wouldn't care one bit. Like that man ever did overtime, you tsked.

Gojo had been playing a game with you, knowing you'd finally relent, that you'd come to your senses and stop denying yourself of what you really fucking wanted. "Be selfish."

Everybody you'd asked today had told you he'd stayed in his office all day. So yeah, he really was doing this on purpose. His light was on, and he was baiting you, and you hated how easy it was for you to take it.

You knew he wanted you to barge in there, all flustered and mouthy, so he could shove you to your knees and fuck your throat open.

Your boyfriend Miyano was sweet, he could talk about his feelings, and he didn't run away from emotional intimacy like others had. Like Gojo always had. But your family had set you up with him even though your shattered heart was still just that. Shattered. Your heart had been reduced to fragments— to a puzzle that only one genius could solve, he wasn’t prepared to give anybody guidance in the matter either. After all, geniuses couldn’t explain how to do the things they found easy.

And although you were the one that ended things with Gojo, it hurt all the same.

There was nothing wrong with Miyano per se. He came from a respectable family, one your family could bear you marrying into; though the Gojo clan would have been amazing, the Miyano clan wasn't terrible either.

But you never wanted your family to arrange a relationship or marriage for you. You fell for Gojo instantly and hard. You loved him like you never loved anybody else. He thrilled you, challenged you, and made it seem like the world was too small for you both and that you could see it all when you stood at his side. He made everything and every day exciting but had the vexing ability to make you feel safe and at home all the same.

Gojo Satoru was irreplaceable in every facet of the word, in his work, friendships, and relationships. As fickle as he could appear, he was the first to call in a crisis and someone you could wholeheartedly depend on.

But Miyano was sweet and emotionally forthcoming but…entirely too normal. You didn't yearn to peel back his layers one by one and didn't care much for his childhood stories, unpopular opinions, or core principles. But you treasured the few times you’d sat with Gojo, pestering him to tell you anything deeper, anything that no one else knew. Watching with sparkling eyes as his voice grew so quiet you had to follow his lips until your eyes blurred instead.

But it was rare he shared anything too personal with you. He had trouble with it more than most. Some nights, although you were sleeping in the same bed, you felt miles apart.

Gojo had a wall with everybody else, like a layer of infinity that meant nobody could really touch him or delve deeper. They only saw and knew the surface that reflected back to them like a mirror. No one could truly ever get close.

But it wasn't supposed to be the case for you, was it?

A fond and familiar laugh yanked you from your reverie, "Did you come to thank me? Because you can thank me by going to dinner with me tomorrow."

How was he larger than the door frame? You all but scowled as he leant down and tapped his cheek. "I also accept kisses as a form of repayment if you're willing," he said silkily, a jaunty grin on his lips at your expression. “With interest.”

Your shoulders slumped, and you huffed, wilfully ignoring the growing heat ping-ponging between your bodies. "Why did you do it?" Your brows knotted, "I wanted to get it on my own, Satoru. And my pitch was strong enough. I didn't need your help."

He threw his hands up and yawned obnoxiously, smoothing the back of his hair down, "Well, what can I say? I'm a doer, not a talker."

You huffed, “No, I'm sure you're always talking."

"You got me there, but" he checked either side of the corridor before he looped his arm around your waist and yanked you into his office. “Game over.”

"Satoru, I-" Your voice fell into a whimper as he flipped you against his door, his lips ghosting your earlobe as he caged you in.

"Maybe it's because I know you like to hear my voice," he whispered. "I know you like being talked through it. And, I know you didn’t need my help, we just needed a little push.”

We needed a final straw.

You swallowed, fists clenched at your sides as his body suffocated yours. Heat quickly crawled up your cheeks as his large hands slid slowly down your sides, the familiar smell of his cologne igniting memories from the last times you smelt it so closely. Kissing down his throat, across his collarbones-

"What are you doing?" You finally mustered, your voice a breathless squeak. Seconds passed, and the tension blazed and kindled, refusing to be extinguished into silence. You didn't dare turn around to see him enjoying you like this.

"Nothing, nothing you don't want me to do," he said in a lilting voice, hitching the hem of your skirt up half an inch. "You've always been so vocal, so I doubt you'd lose your voice in a time like this, would you?"

"No," you hissed, curbing any further speech in case you fucking stammered.

"Don't worry though, baby. You're easy," he scoffed, "and you never stay quiet, not with me.”

“Oh fuck you.” You gasped as he shoved his knee between your thighs to part them.

“Oh I will. But if that wimpy boyfriend of yours is doing his job, then I shouldn’t find your panties soaked in a minute, should I, princess?"

A breath passed, and then he hitched it up a little further, resting his chin on your shoulder to taunt you more. "I see the way you look at me, baby. I know you and that look in your eyes. It tells me all I need to know, princess."

His hand caressed your quivering thighs, brushing your stomach and pausing at your chest. He gripped one breast before the other before it settled upon your throat, and he tipped your head back.

His lips travelled down your temple, to your cheek, and to your neck, where he spoke, "Hm? Ignoring me isn't quite your style. Isn't that why you came here today?”

He kissed the corner of your mouth, and then you knew you were truly fucked. Watching as he pulled away with a grin spreading as slow and molten as melted chocolate.

"I know you wanna kiss me," he whispered, blue eyes alight when you turned and showed him the blown-out lust glazing your eyes. "There we go, baby, that's it. Gonna kiss me?"

You nodded, already too far gone. His hand cupped the back of your head, and he met you halfway in a slow, sensual kiss.

Your fronts drew together, and he shimmied up your skirt until it became a corset. Then he cupped your cunt, the pads of his fingers trailing feather light. Your vision hazed, and your fists curled tighter into his shirt.

Your features were contorted beautifully with lust. "Do not tease me right now."

He laughed as you scowled, his heart aching. He'd missed you so damn much.

"Oh? Want me to rub your pussy, baby?" he cooed, long fingers smearing the slick oozing through your panties.

"Now I know what you fucking came for,” he groaned breathily into your lips, waiting for your sign to continue. Your panties were the door, and his dumbing teasing movements were tentative little knocks. But he knew you liked to be stripped bare and fucked like you were his. This was just the final round of his game.

You bucked your hips forward, needing more, needing him. You clung to him, tugging on his tie, "Satoru, Satoru, more, please," you whimpered through his kisses.

"I only satisfy what's mine, but you're not mine anymore, are you, sweet girl? So what can I do? Nothing."

You eagerly shook your head in protest, on your tip toes, just to drag your mouth down his jaw and neck. "Even though this needy pussy is leaking all over my fingers, responding to me like I own her," he tutted, "but I don't, do I? Pretty girl."

You made a noise half-whimper, half-growl, palming him through his pants until he hissed and then broke his feigned amusement from just how much you were riling him up. "I am yours, Satoru, always, always," you panted.

"I know that baby, but I need to know if she still is." He yanked your panties up so roughly the fabric strained against your clit and made you moan so lewdly you quickly covered your mouth.

"Needy girl," he said lowly before he drew his hand back and slapped your pussy. You moaned even louder, falling weakly into his chest. But you hardly fell far, as he grabbed your face in one hand and leant close.

"You like it when I slap your needy little pussy like this, baby?" His smile moved a millimetre as your eyes darted to his long, pretty fingers. "Want me to bury my fingers inside it till you come too? So you can stop being so needy?"

"Please, Satoru."

"Then show me, show me how much you want them," he whispered, eyes shooting down between you both as he started to circle your clit, not daring to touch it.

"Show me you're dying for it, and we can forget about all of this mess, can't we? You've just gotta show me who knows this pussy best.” The growing gravel in his voice turned the words into ragged commands.

In raptured submission, you yanked aside your panties and guided his fingers, back arching against the door as you ran them back and forth against your soaked cunt. Your breaths finally flew fluidly through the air, like his touch was what your body needed to convert the carbon dioxide.

His jaw grew slack at the sight of you, getting yourself off on his fingers, clumsily rubbing your swollen clit against his fingertips, breaths huffing from your nose in the exertion.

He leant into the beautiful image of you, moaning in your ear as your slick drowned his fingers. The slick wet sounds of your cunt as you run them back and forth, rapidly unravelling him.

"Look at me," he demanded, plunging two of his fingers knuckle deep until it squelched when you didn’t comply in seconds. You let out a humiliating whimper. The pleasure of the sudden yet sweet stretch danced through every nerve.

He grinned, fucking his fingers inside, “You look so pretty like this, I should take a photo.”

"I can't…." You couldn't speak, not when his fingers were relentless inside like this, clenching and fluttering as he bullied that spot inside you.

But his name was a never-ending hot, sweaty mantra.

"Trying to give me scraps, huh? But you're mine," he spat.

"No, I need you, Satoru. I need only you, only you," you babbled.

The lustful look in your eyes catapulted him over the edge. He couldn't take it anymore, his palm granting sweet friction to your clit as he fucked you like the world was about to end. "I know you need it, baby. I've got you. I know.”

He tried to undo your buttons with his free hand but was too fucked out to do it, grunting for your help, so you did immediately. "Say the words, and I'll stretch this sweet pussy out with my cock after you come, baby.”

"I'm yours, please. Fuck me," you whimpered, your entire body shaking as pleasure climbed through your body, building until you felt the pressure about to burst. Your hands roamed his body, eager to feel him as you removed your own shirt.

But like an animal, he was all over you, kissing, licking, and biting as you squirmed close to your climax. His lips closed around your nipple, and your spine straightened at the softness until he bites it hard.

You yelped, but he only laughed, "Hurts? Don't care, baby, it hurts seeing you with that loser, the number of times I've had to come in my fucking hand because of you."

The lewd sloshes of your pussy grew louder, and Gojo delighted in how you were now dripping onto the floor. So, he finally granted you mercy, pulsing his hand until you came in wild thrashing waves that rippled violently through your body.

"Oh yeah? Did that feel good, pretty girl?" he whispered, tilting your chin to devour your breathless mouth. The press of his lips and the erotic flicks of his tongue were making you throb wildly on his fingers. "See, you do like it when I talk.”

He let out such an attractive laugh at your glare that you fluttered around him again. "Baby again? I'm not gonna leave this pussy just yet, let up, or I won't be able to get my cock inside," he hummed. "Isn't that what we both want?"

"Then do it. Put it in me." You spread yourself, and he bit back a moan. His eyes flickered at how you shook when his thumb brushed your clit experimentally.

Your brows knitted at the lingering sensation, “Please, put it in me, now."

"Oh baby, but if you keep squeezing like that." Gojo grew dizzy at how your pussy refused to let him go, helping you tug away his belt and zip down his pants. Hazy, as you let up enough for him to take his fingers out of your spasming cunt.

"You really gonna let me fuck you right here, huh?"

His eyes were half-lidded at the sight of you in your office heels, panties soaked and half-pulled down, shirt hanging limply and open, your skirt a thick black belt hugging your torso.

You were a mess, his mess, his pretty mess.

"Oh baby, you're so beautiful." He knelt down, working down your panties with his breath uneven, kissing each knee as he worked them down each ankle and then tossed them behind him.

"Shall I tell you something?" he mused, running his hands up and down your thighs as he kissed and licked at the slick threatening to stick them together.

"Yes, tell me." Your hands slid instinctively into his hair as he reached your pussy and kissed it.

"I'll be honest, yeah?"

He was waiting for a shaky, "Yeah?" so you granted him one laced through a whimper, so he suckled on your clit in return before speaking.

“I can pamper you. Spoil you, fuck you, take care of you." His voice was almost hoarse, thick and affected by something other than lust—a different emotion.

"I know that Toru, I do."

"N' I can—love you, too," he murmured, voice so uncharacteristically small but soft like it used to be when he spoke to you at night.

You gasped. Gojo had never said those words, not once. "Satoru, I-" His tongue dove into your cunt, and you almost toppled forwards, but somehow in seconds, he was carrying you. Holding you close, you heard the unmistakable clatter of the desk's contents clatter to the floor as he pressed you down upon the cold surface.

His large arms locked your torso down, and he swiftly resumed tongue fucking your cunt, delving his fingers in and out. His heart was pounding with his confession and from your lack of reply. Though he knew he was fucking you so precisely and so perfectly that it was indeed impossible for you to respond.

Until you burst once more, hands tugging his hair, bucking your pussy into his face, greedy for not just more, but for him. For the actions to do more than the words you could barely manage, so overstimulated and so sensitive that you felt yourself heating up. But then, as your pleasure erupted, feeling your hot arousal coat your thighs, a garbled "I love you" ripped from your chest.

Satoru froze for several seconds, and then it was as if someone found the remote and clicked play as he somehow tugged off his blazer and pants all at once. Ripping his boxers down just enough to grab the base of his cock.

Peering down at you, hungry and lovesick. "Say it again." You giggled and tugged him down for a messy kiss, working off his shirt.

"I love you, Satoru, I love you. I've never been afraid to say it." Your body was still shaking from your blinding orgasm, and he loved every second of it. He loved that he was about to ruin you even more.

His cheek brushed yours as he folded your body, rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit, "I love you," he whispered hotly into your ear, "I want you to feel like the luckiest woman in the world."

“I already do.”

“Yeah?” You moaned in tandem as he bucked his hips repeatedly, more of his cock easing in each time. Teasing you over and over, even though you were ready to take him, and he knew it. "Can you take me, baby?"

"Yes!" You whined, breath hitching as he tapped his cock against your cunt before he slammed in and filled you to the brim all at once. You both groaned, the sounds fading into seconds of soft relieved laughter. "Oh fuck, Toru, so good."

He moaned, voice shaky in your ear, "That's it, baby, you're so good. Take my cock. It's all yours. Take every single inch."

"Fuck Toru, you're so deep, too deep!"

"No, baby, feels good, doesn't it?"

Before you knew it, he picked you up and slammed you against the glass overlooking the city. If you weren't on the top floor, you'd absolutely refuse. But Gojo always did like fucking you in front of Tokyo at night.

"You can take it, baby, you can fucking take it, yeah? Cause you're made for me, so made for me," he panted.

"I can take it."

"I know you can." He sucked and kissed on your neck, no doubt leaving his mark on you, as you wrapped your arms around his neck and took every slam of his hips. His stamina had always been otherworldly, never tiring, even as he fucked you standing up, hands sinking into the undersides of your thighs.

"Leave him," he moaned, not in the slightest asking.

Luckily you didn't mind, as you tugged him closer and parted your lips, "I will, I promise."

"Because you're mine, baby." His teeth were clenched, and he was groaning into your ear. Usually, Gojo could pace himself, but it had been so long, and you felt so good clinging to him like this, it was so close and so intimate. “I love you.”

So close, and so…

He blinked at the revelation that hit him like a freight train, he wasn’t going to run any longer. He liked the intimacy, he wanted to tell you all the stupid things you wanted to know now, he wanted to be close, he wanted you. He wanted to be everything you needed and wanted.

"Are you gonna come?" Your voice was so sweet it gave him an instant sugar rush, "Come in me, baby, fill me, Satoru. Need your cum," you whimpered. “Want it?”

"Yeah? You fucking do, princess? Haah-" He pulled out and shoved your front against the glass. You moaned at the switch, and as he spread you apart before thrusting back in, his large hands engulfing each cheek.

He lost it as you pushed your hips back on him, moaning and babbling, "Then let's have the entirety of Tokyo be a witness as I give my sweet girl what she fucking wants, huh?"

"Fuck, Satoru, feels too good! I'm close too!" you moaned, both of your bodies meeting in desperate sticky clashes of hips.

He whimpered, “We're gonna come together?"

You were gonna send him over the edge tonight.

"I’m so glad you came. Take me, take it, baby. Oh fuck.” His hands dug into your hips, making you take every single rope of his arousal. Lewd sounds tore from your throats at the sensation of him filling you deeply. After seconds of panting and melting into each other's arms, he still made no immediate moves to leave you.

He thrusted slowly to drive it deeper, "I'm not on birth control anymore," you squeaked. "But I'll take th-“

"Good. We're getting the family started just on time."

You giggled tiredly, "You're on board that fast?"

He squeezed you as he laughed himself, arms locked tight around your waist, "Do you wanna see the engagement ring in my desk or?"

"Satoru!"

He twirled you around to face him, "I was gonna fly you somewhere and propose, but I suppose the cats out of the bag." He pouted and got on one knee, kissing your knuckles, "You'll marry me, won't ya? Think of this as a practice proposal, though!"

You sighed, "God, you're a fucking idiot."

"Heh, heh." He opened his desk drawer and produced a small black box.

“I wasn’t joking, actually,” he popped it open with a proud smile, "Shoko kind of helped me pick it, said it was-"

It was beautiful, everything you’d always envisioned but had never described to him or anybody else.

A slow tear slid down your cheek, another racing beside it seconds later, “Aww! Are you that happy to marry me, sweetheart?"

"Go away! But…yes."

He put the ring on the desk and cupped your cheeks, "Yes, you're happy, or yes, you'll marry me?" he asked tentatively.

"Both!"

"Yay!”

You were half-expecting people to jump out with confetti because Gojo was just that ridiculous sometimes, but instead, you heard shrill knocking and then Nanami's voice, absolutely exasperated. "Gojo! You knew I was working overtime today."

He shrugged, grinning at you recoiling into his chest and half-expecting Nanami to barrel in, "Probably the most action you'll get all year!"

He stroked your cheek, full of adoration.

But I got her back.

He always did like grand gestures.

tagging: @afortoru @luvjiro @sixpennydame @4sat0ruu @fangirlings-world @romantichomicide95 @nkogneatho @p00pdev1l @utahimeow @hayakawasb1tch @yocoochbussin <3

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fanfiction #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #mdni banner: @fic-dumpster <3 #still getting used to writing my baby <3

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whererubbermeetstheroad · 9 months ago

Note

What are some of your First Year headcanons for TWST?

Ohmygod, I am sooooo sorry this took so long. It was way harder than I thought it would be to corral all my ideas together, but FINALLY, here it is. I hope this is good enough lol.

Hooooooo boy. The amount of brainrot I’ve had for these little guys is unreal, even during the times when I wasn’t that into TWST. But honestly, I don’t really have a whole lot to say — not that much of a “headcanons” person, myself. And a lot of what I do have to say has already been said in my fics. But I’m going to do my best here…

Ace Trappola

Because of the whole Book One fiasco, there are a lot of… things, let’s say, that Ace has absolutely fought tooth-and-nail to keep from his seniors; injuries sustained from stupid stunts, fights, bad grades, etc. It’s sort of like he’s doing whatever he can to avoid getting collared, despite knowing, logically, he probably isn’t going to.

Basically, Ace is the definition of a kid whose parents were strict, so he learned to be sneaky.

He’s actually a really snappy dresser, and not half-bad at doing makeup. He probably would’ve been in Pomefiore if it weren’t for his lackadaisical views on hard work. Meanwhile, while he’s not a strict person by any means, his stubborn, relentless attitude about his own twisted morals is what got him into Heartslabyul.

Out of all the upperclassmen, Ace feels the closest to Floyd… surprisingly. Jamil used to be a close second, but after the winter break fiasco, he’s since been replaced by Cater.

With Floyd, Ace can mostly chalk up the underwater museum incident to Yuu’s own meddling. With Jamil, it’s a little… less certain.

Before coming to Night Raven College, Ace’s nervous habit was to scratch the back of his head. After coming to Night Raven College, it was to rub the back of his neck.

Not really related to Ace, but I always headcanoned that his older brother was twisted from the Ringmaster from “Dumbo (1941)”.

Deuce Spade

Surprisingly, there are a lot of things Deuce also tries to hide from his upperclassmen. He hates himself everytime he does it, but it’s better than bothering them every time he loses his temper and they have to sign him out of the infirmary.

Deuce has scars on his knuckles from his delinquent days.

Deuce’s main job at an Unbirthday Party is to move the tables and chairs.

The Dark Mirror briefly considered Deuce for Savanaclaw due to his strength and his instinct to hit a problem until it got out of his way, but his self-imposed pressure to be an honor student landed him in Hearstlabyul instead.

Out of all the upperclassmen, Deuce feels the closest to Silver.

Having a mommy/daddy complex will do that to you.

He likes to put oyster sauce on his tarts now — not because he particularly likes the taste, but because it makes him feel warm inside. (Tell Ace, and you’re dead.)

Deuce is actually really good at croquet for some inexplicable reason.

Jack Howl

Whenever Jack needs to leave Savanaclaw outside of school hours, he just leaves without telling anybody.

At the beginning of the year, he used to actually scrawl a shitty note saying "I'm leaving" everytime he needed to leave, but rarely did people ever actually find it by the time he got back.

After everything that happened in Book 2 and Book 3, it's obvious to him that Ruggie and Leona really don't care enough, so he stopped leaving notes.

For the briefest of moments, Jack was considered for Heartslabyul by the Dark Mirror for his inflexible moral code. However, his steadfastness in the face of overwhelming odds landed him in Savanaclaw.

They grow nighthowlers in the Botanical Garden. They look exactly like blueberries. Not related to Jack (yet), but I thought it was important to mention.

Besides Vil, Jack feels the closest to Riddle in terms of upperclassmen.

He really does like Ruggie and Leona, but that’s… a lot to unpack, at best.

He and Epel regularly get into fights over whether pears or apples are better, even in situations where neither pears or apples are involved.

Professor Crewel, especially, is very exasperated with them.

For absolutely no real reason whatsoever, Jack has the entirety of the “Shaftlands’ Etiquette Manual for Youngsters (Ages 14—18)” memorized.

Not related to Jack, but I always headcanoned his young sister as being twisted off of Bolt from “Bolt (2008)” and his younger brother as being based off the Sheriff of Nottingham from “Robin Hood (1973)”.

Epel Felmier

Epel is a transgender male. Just wanted to get that out of the way.

Epel does actually like macarons — strawberry-flavored ones are his favorite.

Epel does still get into a lot of fights around school, but he’s gotten better at hiding the evidence. Employing a trick he learned from Vil, he hides the bulk of his injuries using his clothes and makeup.

More often than he’d like to admit, Epel accidentally refers to Vil and Rook as his “parents” in his essays. Luckily, Professor Trein still gives him full credit, and he doesn’t comment.

He does the same thing when he’s talking about them to the other freshmen. They don’t stop him because a) it’s sweet, and b) it’s funny.

Once, Epel vented to Riddle about Vil, and accidentally referred to him as his “Ma” the whole time. By the end of it, Riddle looked very, very, very concerned.

Out of all the upperclassmen, Epel feels the closest to Leona.

Epel had no chances of ending up in Savanaclaw, but with the Dark Mirror sensing great magical power emanating from him, he very nearly ended up in Diasomnia. However, because he hadn’t developed his ultra-mega-powerful Signature Spell yet, it ended up diverting him into Pomefiore. Sorry, bud.

Am I only saying this because Epel is actually twisted off of a magic object, unlike the other characters? Yes, yes I am.

Ortho Shroud

He’s twisted from Hercules, don’t freaking @ me.

Ortho has a few issues with looking into mirrors, especially since he looks so much like OG!Ortho.

Ortho has a few attachment issues, as a result of being an extrovert trapped in an introvert’s bubble for most of his life.

The first-years completely and absolutely baby him, no questions asked.

It’s so bad that even if Ortho is completely at fault for something, they’ll take his side anyway.

Honestly, as much as I love this little guy, I really don’t have much to say about him…

Sebek Zigvolt

Suffers from severe attachment issues, for about the same reason as Ortho — being “too much” emotionally, and surrounded by people who put in the emotional bare minimum.

Silver is kind of an exception, but he’s so stone-faced, it also kind of doesn’t make a difference.

Has definitely called Trey “Father” more often than he’d like to admit. Trey thinks it’s funny, meanwhile Sebek is just straight-up mortified everytime.

Out of all the freshmen, Sebek actually feels the least close to the upperclassmen. But if I had to say which one he feels the closest to, even if it wouldn’t be saying much at all, it would have to be Silver.

While Sebek’s favorite food is salmon carpaccio, his (closeted) second-favorite is his dad’s homemade yogurt.

Am I projecting? Yes. I love my dad, sue me.

Sebek was actually way more comfortable with his human side than he was with his fae side when he was a kid, but because Briar Valley, that didn’t last too long.

Back in Briar Valley, Silver could usually go out by himself and not be bothered—mostly because he was General Vanrouge’s son and Malleus’s sort-of brother. Sebek, unfortunately, did not have that luxury.

The Dark Mirror considered Sebek for Ignihyde because of his never-ending diligence when it came to protecting Malleus and the other people he cared about. However, once it became extremely obvious that Sebek didn’t know how to turn down the volume on his own phone, it put him in Diasomnia.

Honestly, though, I think Sebek and Ortho would’ve both been better off if he HAD been sorted into Ignihyde.

Not related to Sebek, but I headcanon his older brother as being based on Tick-Tock the Crocodile from “Peter Pan (1953)” and his older sister as being twisted from Louis from “The Princess and the Frog (2009)”.

Yes, I know Louis is technically an ALLIGATOR, but shhhh. Lemme have this.

If it makes you feel better, though, I also headcanon their father as being from Port o’Bliss (the same place Sam is from), so through the power of genetics, it kind of works out.

Okay, I think that’s everything. I considered adding Yuu in here, but then again, anything we know about Yuu is mostly headcanons, so I don’t think it counts lol.

Thank you SO MUCH for your patience, and I hope my headcanons didn’t bore you, I know they’re kind of mundane lol.

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