#ramshackle writing

[ramshacklefey]

I realized that I only ever shared these in the server, so! Here are the links to the Murderbot fics I've done recently. This construct will not leave my brain.

Cute story about MB and the Mensah kids.

What if ART ended up raising Iris alone?

Murderbot experiences the worst possible side of being able to meet your fellow clones:

[ramshacklefey]

Prince Wilhelm was hiding in the bath, sunk down so only his head was above the water. The steam had stopped rising from the water some time ago, and aside from the soft hissing of the new steam radiator, the room was silent.

He wanted to get out of the bath, put on his robe, and go curl into a ball under his blankets. Maybe he could pretend he was ill, and refuse to come out of his rooms for the evening. Surely, he had been to enough of the day's events that he could get away with skipping this one. The thought of putting on his stiff evening suit and descending to the dining hall to be stared at and fussed over made him feel ill. And there would be dancing afterward, which meant being stuck in the ballroom with its deafening echoes and music swirling out of control. He was supposed to make conversation there, but he didn't see how anyone else could even hear what was being said in that room.

He thought of sneaking down the back stairs to the stables, saddling Freyja, and leaving the palace. But he would never make it off the grounds and through the city without anyone spotting him.

There was a soft knock at the door, and his father came in. King Gregor was already dressed in his evening wear, all dark blue and gold braid, with ribbons braided into his long white beard. His dark eyes took in Wilhelm, huddled in the cooling bath, and the untouched tray of soaps on a table beside him. He sighed and pulled up a stool to sit beside the tub.

"You won't get out of it by waiting up here, you know," he said gently.

Wilhelm didn't answer. They both knew all the things he wanted to say. They'd had the conversation a hundred times already.

"I'm sorry, Will," his father said. "This isn't what your mother or I wanted for you. But the political situation has gotten worse, and we need to find a way of cementing our ties to our neighbors. At least you get to choose."

"That's not much of a comfort when I know I'll be choosing someone I don't love," said Wilhelm.

"You don't know that," said his father, "This is only your coming-of-age. You don't have to choose tonight."

"Father, we both know I'm never going to find a woman I can love," he said softly.

His father sighed. "Have you washed your hair yet?" he asked.

Wilhelm shook his head, and Gregor reached over and grabbed the small cup lying by the tub. Wilhelm sat up, hugging his knees to his chest, as his father began gently washing his long, dark hair. There was no sound between them but the soft splashing.

"Come on," his father said when he was done, "get out of there before you catch cold."

The sound of him getting out of the bath brought his attendants creeping around the door, carrying clothes, perfumes, and hair-brushes. King Gregor dismissed them with a sharp look, and led Wilhelm into the bedchamber. Wilhelm grudgingly started dressing himself in the outfit his tailor had spent the last two months on. He wished Clas would have listened to him and not made the jacket from cloth-of-gold, but Clas had insisted that this was traditional for this event.

Once he was dressed, his father sat him in front of his mirror and began combing out his hair.

"Love is a fine thing," Gregor said as he worked, "but it comes in many forms. No one would say that being in love isn't one of the best things in life, but when it comes to a marriage... well, there are other things that matter just as much. Find yourself a woman who enjoys your company, has a good heart and a good head, and who you can respect. What happens after that is up to the two of you."

"Is that how you and mother were?" he asked.

"It was," said Gregor. "Lilia was my best friend. We didn't have quite the same difficulties that you will, but we respected each other. And if either of us had, I know we could have worked it out. That's far more valuable than any impassioned romance. And you know, Will, all the young women down there who have an ounce of sense are looking for the same thing. Do you want your hair tied back, or left down?"

"Down please," said Wilhelm. "But father, what am I going to do? Am I really supposed to find a woman who will want to be married to a man who doesn't even-"

"You're making too many assumptions," said Gregor with a wry smile. "What makes you think that all those women are any more interested in you than you are in them? Plenty of women would think it a blessing to be married to a man who is going to make no demands of them in the bedroom. And since you're my younger son, no one is going to be expecting an heir."

"Unless Mikkel doesn't have any children," Wilhelm said bitterly. "And then what?"

"That," said Gregor, "is a problem that can be solved when, and if, it becomes one. Now. We are going down to dinner. It's going to be alright son. Why don't you try talking to King Marcus's daughter, Claudia? She's quiet, but I had an interesting conversation with her this afternoon. I think you two will get along well."

"I will," he said, "but only to please you."

Gregor smiled and squeezed his shoulder. "That'll be enough," he said.

~~~~

The ballroom was a roaring whirl of light and sound. The smell of drinks and perfume was making his head reel. Wilhelm had just managed to escape the dancing crowd for a moment and was standing on the edge of the floor, sipping a cup of chilled wine, when a young woman came and plopped onto the bench beside him.

Her face was flushed from dancing and her eyes sparkled very prettily as she looked back out over the floor.

"Good evening, Your Highness," she said, nodding politely.

"Good evening," he said, "I see you're enjoying the festivities."

"As much as I can! It isn't often I get a chance to see such sights! His Majesty truly has put on a splendid event. And how are you enjoying the evening, Highness?"

He looked down at her, wondering where she might be from. While it was true that his was one of the larger and more powerful kingdoms in the area, he didn't think any of them were so poor as to make this seem like a rare extravagance. She met his eyes, and there was something mischievous there that made him uncomfortable. It seemed she knew more about him and his feelings than she was letting on.

"Everything is wonderful," he said. "Forgive me, I've met far too many people in one day..."

"Oh, of course, my apologies," she said, bounding to her feet and dropping an elegant curtsy. "Tellervo, daughter of Lord Tapio and Lady Mielikki."

"My apologies," said Wllhelm, "I must have misheard you in the noise of the dancing. Did you say-"

"You didn't mishear me, your highness," she said, winking at him.

"Then you're talking nonsense," he said.

"Not at all," said Tellervo, "I am precisely who I say I am. The question is, do you believe me?"

Wilhelm stared at her. There was no way she wasn't joking with him. Tapio and Mielikki were two of the old forest gods. No one except rural peasants believed in them any more, and actual worship was forbidden by the Church. His father used to tell him the old stories about them when he was little, but he had long outgrown his love of the old tales.

"If you are who you say you are," he said at last, "then what are you doing here?"

"I have business here," she said. "Business that you may be able to help me with."

"I see," he said. Perhaps she was a bit touched in the head. It would be best to be polite in that case, until he was able to find out who she really was. Undoubtedly she had been sent here with attendants, who were likely worried about having lost track of her. "And what business might that be?"

"You don't believe me," she said. "I was hoping you would, you know. You're one of the few people who still care about the old stories of us."

Wilhelm was about to reply to her, when Mikkel came bounding up and threw an arm around his shoulder.

"There you are little brother!" he said boisterously, "What are you doing skulking here in a corner by yourself?"

"I was just talking to-" Wilhelm began, but Tellervo was gone. She must have slipped away.

"No excuses!" said Mikkel. "I know you hate parties, but you can't be over here neglecting your guests like this! Here, just stick with me, all right? I'll keep the ravening hordes at bay. Just let me know if you see someone you actually want to talk to, and I'll let them pass."

Wilhelm, feeling rather dazed, let his brother tow him back into the press of people. As he did, he thought he heard a voice whisper, "I'll see you again soon."

You, the prince have been suffering through the parade of prospective brides all day. They’re all beautiful, wonderful women. But you’re gay.

[yuuchama]

Sometime during the VDC training camp, when everyone on team Night Raven is sleeping over at Ramshackle Dorm:

Ramshackle Dorm has no shortage of spare rooms, but their condition is another story. You've managed to get enough of them decently clean. They're not as nice as your room, which has had far more time invested in it and is well lived in, but your groupmates should be able to spend a few days at the dorm without issue and are more than free to tidy up rooms as they please.

Yet on one of the first nights, you hear the door of your room creak open. It's dark and you can't see the intruder, though you know it's not one of the ghosts. The approaching footsteps aren't as heavy as Grim's, even after he's cleared out the entire fridge in one sitting. You're also pretty confident Grim is fast asleep beside you.

"Hello?" You groggily lift your head and call out to the intruder. If it's anything malicious, you hope the ensuing scuffle will cause enough noise to wake everyone else up.

A weight pushes the edge of your mattress down and there's a gentle touch at your shoulder. "Prefect, do you mind if I spend the rest of the night here?"

"Jamil?"

You almost don't recognize him in the dark with his hair down. You feel around for a bedside light. Grim groans in his sleep when it clicks on and turns over, shielding his eyes with tiny arms.

Jamil looks exhausted. "Please, I'd really appreciate if you could let me sleep here tonight."

"Yeah, sure. Of course." Maybe it's the sleep addling your brain or your trust in Jamil. You see no reason to turn down his request and didn't question why he was coming to you instead of Kalim. You nudge Grim over to make room for one more on the bed.

The vice housewarden does his best to fit in the cramped sleeping conditions, assuring "I'll pay you back for this. Thank you."

He's turned towards the wall, back touching your side so that he doesn't fall. You wait to make sure he's fully secure in bed before turning off the light. In the calm that follows, you notice he's almost imperceptibly shaking. Sure, the dorm is cold, but not that cold. Especially with three in one bed.

"Jamil, are you okay?" The longer you spend awake, the more concerning this whole situation feels.

"I'm fine. Goodnight, Prefect." Jamil already has his eyes shut and seems adamant about not discussing things further.

"Okay... Goodnight."

You lay down and silence settles over the room once more. It's really warm between your two friends. Sleep is quick to catch up to you, you find yourself nodding off within minutes of your head touching the pillow.

Before you fully drift off, Jamil turns to face you. His hair drapes over the side of the bed and he places a hand on your pillow, lightly grazing your cheek.

"Thanks again," he whispers. "I feel a lot better with you here. Your room doesn't have bugs on the wall."

[taruruchi]

Random heartshackle, adeuce and yuu, thingy I came up with over a week ago, here u go !!

Sorries if they don't type how they seem like they would, I'm so bad at coming up w stuff like that 😭

[twstyuna]

The transfer student looks familiar

The end of the event. Pain and agonies. Behold mine copium.

[cheekinpermission]

I'm only *checks notes* five days overdue. Whoopsie.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Do you have any crack headcannons like you did with Ace with hitting on Jamil?

I have one of Grim knowing how to use a toilet like a person would but not how to open doors. So during book 5. Guys would see Grim using the toilet, in the dark, in the middle of the night if they have to. They see two bright circles in the bathroom until they turn on the light.

[Referencing this post!]

👆 This scene from Puss in Boots 2 except it’s Grim and Yuu—

I have a lot of silly personal headcanons (probably way too many to contain in a post)! Off the top of my head:

A frequent topic among the first years is romance. It's mostly because Ace instigates (usually to brag about how much experience + game he has and how everyone else is a LOSER). Deuce and Epel are flustered, Jack tries to be mature and call out Ace's childish behavior + views, Sebek loudly compares what Ace says to the things he has read in his romance novels + advice from Lilia, and Ortho--shockingly--is the most level-headed and logical of the group. (He'll take one look at Ace's vital signs and declare the guy is actually lying about having rizz.)

(PREFACING THIS ONE WITH THE CONTEXT THAT I WAS SUFFERING REALLY BADLY FROM MONTHLY CRAMPS AND CAME UP WITH THIS TO COMFORT MYSELF) Due to their heightened senses, fae and/or beastmen are able to sense very subtle changes, such as shifts in weather (ie a storm is rolling in) and changes in the body. For example, local feminist king L*ona can somehow sense when "that time" of month is coming and will show up on some poor woman's doorstep a few days before it starts with a plastic bag of [feminine hygiene products], snacks, pain relief medicine, and a heating pad in it. He gives NO explanation, just unceremoniously tosses it on the floor before he turns around and peaces tf out.

Mostro Lounge staff are granted paid lunch breaks, but if they choose to eat from the lounge then they still need to pay for 50% of it. They once tried to unionize, but Azul sent in the twins to shut it down real fast.

Jade and Trey love really bad puns and dad jokes.

The Magic Carpet is Scarabia's unofficial mascot. The mobs generally like it and act like it's the dorm's collective pet dog. Sometimes they drop scraps of food for it from banquets/parties (... D-Does it eat? If so, how...?).

Crewel and Vil heard about the time the Ramshackle Ghosts designed and made Yuu + Grim Halloween costumes. They decided to work with the ghosts to make a fashion line using repurposed old fabrics for a charity fashion show. Proceeds went to an environmental conversation organization.

Lilia hates milk substitutes. He finds them offensive and it breaks his heart to see others ask for the "fake stuff". Insists that those are not "true milk", "It's just nut or grain water!! NUT OR GRAIN WATER!!"

Lilia goes on dating apps just to see who he can bag, then he kicks down the door to the Diasomnia lounge to brag that he’s “still got it”.

Malleus learned about swear words from Leona. (He asked Lilia what a “flying fuck” was because Leona said it in front of him 😭)

Crowley has a 20-step beauty routine. Also sings (terribly) while he engages in self care.

Fellow goes on dates just to scam women of their valuables and/or to leech off their resources for a little while. His ideal targets are lonely wealthy widows and/or lonely wives whose spouses are often busy with work or traveling. Usually ends with him getting smacked by the woman, chased off by an angry spouse, or him pathetically groveling for mercy at their feet.

[brideofbriar]

🏚️┆Daily life in Ramshackle dorm

➳ FT:: Yuu,, Grim,, Rollo Flamme,, Fellow Honest,, Gidel,, the ghost trio ➳ A/N:: the family ever they make me wanna sob (they exist only in my head) ➳ summary:: the choas resulting from living with "reformed criminals" ➳ warnings:: might be ooc

Yuu:: guys, do you mind leaving for a sec? I have something to speak to Fellow about. *glares into his soul*

Fellow:: no guys stay! Please stay...

Yuu:: Go!

Fellow:: Stay!

Yuu:: GO

Fellow:: Grim please stay

Grim:: get him henchman! nyeheheheh

Yuu:: GO!!

Fellow:: Rollo don't do this to me!

Rollo:: *picks up Grim and grabs Gidel's hand, walking out of the room*

Fellow:: GIDELLLLL

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Azul:: how does it feel to belong to the worst dorm in school

Yuu:: well-

Rollo:: in a school full of sinners I wear it as a badge of honor

Cater:: what about the rumor's that you're all gay nd mentally imbalanced

Grim:: WHO DARED TO SAY THAT ABOUT THE ALMIGHTY GRIM

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Grim:: *yapping to Gidel abt how he is the superior cat nd he will never replace him*

Yuu:: what's going on

Slim ghost:: Grim is being obnoxious again kheheheh

Plump ghost:: man if I were in that little kitty's place I would've beat him up wwwwww

Gidel:: *picks up hammer*

Ghosts + yuu:: ?

Gidel:: *bonks Grim*

Grim:: OUCH-?!

Fellow:: *popping out of nowhere* that's my boy!

Gidel:: >:3

Grim:: HENCHMANNNN

[astro-stars]

First years convos (1)

The cafeteria buzzed with its usual lunchtime energy, but one table in particular stood out—the one occupied by Yuu and the first-year chaos squad. Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, and Yuu had gathered once again for their daily dose of questionable conversations and hearty laughter. Today’s topics promised to be even more chaotic than usual.

“Alright,” Ace said, leaning forward with a smirk, “serious question: if you could have any superpower but it came with a ridiculous drawback, what would you pick?”

Deuce scratched his head. “Uh… super strength, but I’d have to sneeze every time I use it?”

“Lame,” Epel said, waving a hand. “I’d want to turn invisible, but only when I’m holding my breath.”

Jack frowned. “That’s not practical.”

“None of this is practical,” Yuu pointed out with a laugh. “I’d want to talk to animals, but the drawback would be that they’d all gossip about me.”

“Shrimpy, you’re already living that one,” Ace teased, and Yuu threw a napkin at him.

Jack crossed his arms. “I’d pick super speed, but the drawback is I have to eat five times as much.”

“You already eat a lot,” Epel said, grinning.

“That’s why it’d work,” Jack replied, deadpan.

“Next topic,” Deuce said, clearly eager to contribute. “If you could swap places with any of the housewardens for a day, who would it be?”

“Vil,” Epel said immediately. “I’d banish all the fancy skincare rules for one day. Live free.”

Ace snorted. “I’d pick Leona. Dude spends all his time sleeping anyway, so it’d be an easy day.”

“You wouldn’t last five minutes in Savannaclaw,” Jack said.

“You’re just mad ‘cause I’m right,” Ace shot back.

“What about you, Yuu?” Deuce asked.

Yuu thought for a moment. “Probably Riddle. I’d want to see what it’s like to run Heartslabyul without a single rule for one day.”

“The dorm would burn down,” Ace said, and everyone burst into laughter.

“Okay, okay,” Epel said, wiping tears from his eyes. “What’s the weirdest food combination you’ve ever tried?”

“I dipped fries in ice cream once,” Deuce admitted sheepishly.

“That’s not weird,” Yuu said. “It’s delicious. I’ve done it too.”

“Pickles and peanut butter,” Epel said, grinning. “It’s better than you think.”

“Nope, nope, nope,” Ace said, shaking his head. “I’m not even entertaining that one.”

Jack shrugged. “Raw eggs in milk. It’s a protein thing.”

“You’re terrifying,” Yuu said, staring at him.

“Alright,” Ace said, leaning back. “Last question: if you could fight any mythical creature and win, what would it be?”

“Kraken,” Deuce said without hesitation. “It’d be awesome.”

“A chimera,” Jack said. “It’s got a lion, a goat, and a snake. Beating one would be a real challenge.”

“You guys are too serious,” Ace said. “I’d fight a unicorn. What’s it gonna do? Stab me with glitter?”

“You’d lose,” Epel said, smirking. “Unicorns are supposed to be super strong.”

“What about you, Yuu?” Deuce asked.

Yuu grinned. “A dragon. If I win, I’d make it my friend.”

“That’s cheating,” Ace said. “You’re supposed to fight it, not make friends with it.”

“Why not both?” Yuu replied, and the table dissolved into laughter.

As the lunch hour ticked by, the topics grew more ridiculous and the laughter louder. By the time they left the cafeteria, they were all wiping tears from their eyes and clutching their sides from laughing too hard. Another day, another chaotic lunch for the first-year crew.

TAGLIST: @soramcduckahyucky @lunasmisosoup

DIVIDER: me!!

[twstjam]

I haven't publicly posted any random fic ideas in a while so here's a quick one!:

The Dark Fae of Briar Valley are feared by their human neighbours. The humans spend every day dreading that their children and loved ones will be stolen away by the night, never to be seen again. They're only reassured by a prophecy that foretells the arrival of "A tamer of beasts that can bring even a fearsome prince of thorns to his knees".

You're just an average human who made an unlikely friend after wandering too close to the darkest side of the woods. Unbeknownst to you, this friend of yours is the current crown prince of the nocturnal faeries and every time you meet up with him, he falls more and more in love with you.

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

There would probably be a lot more problems if yuu couldn't see or hear

Blind/Visually Impaired Yuu stepping on leonas tail. The Japanese version literally has him say "damn I feel bad about hurting someone's who's helpless but I'm gonna take a tooth"

He'd still be pretty rough with a blind Yuu.

I can see the teachers wearing one of those small mics around their necks that guve captions or send what they're saying directly into transcript for notes— students may harrass them to get those though.

But also just imagine if you have mobility issues. Look at this:

Sure there are mirrors but look at the paths to Ramshackle which is also not a very disability friendly dorm. Especially for a blind person with all the loose wood

[ramshacklefey]

On Burning Wings Update!

First chapter of my Endhawks fic is up!

The war is over, and Enji Todoroki is in disgrace. Stripped of rank and dignity, he's been sent to the outer reaches of Coalition space to run security on the run-down, crime-ridden Iota Station. After a life spent hurting everyone around him in his blind, self-centered quest for power and glory, he's not sure he can ever become the man he wants to be. But he's determined to try, because he has nothing else left.

Hawks is used to working on the down-low. It's kind of his thing. So his current mission to keep tabs on the disgraced Grand General of the Coalition's HERO Corps is nothing new. He's not here to make friends. But to do his job well, he needs the crew to like him, and he needs to get close to Todoroki.

Caught between a seemingly impossible mission, contrary local officials, and some serious supply shortages, they both have their work cut out for them. But they quickly realize there's something more going on. As they work together to uncover the truth, they stumble across a plot hatched at the highest levels of the coalition government. And they each start to realize what it was that they've been missing in their lives up til now

Read it here on ao3

[remina-mina]

First years and how they ended up at Ramshackle (Heartslabyul 2/2)

Deuce

"Deuce how did you guys get through Riddle's Overblot?" "If it wasn't for my upperclassmen I'd be dead."

if Deuce was asked why he sleeps over at Ramshackle so often he would say it's to keep an eye on Ace. that wasn't far from the original truth from when Trey slipped him the permission slip

But after watching someone who by all definitions of the word was the ideal honor student

someone who he hoped to help him on his path to becoming an honor student attempt to murder his friends and slaughter clones of his upperclassmen he can't help but wonder how the rest of his days are NRC will go

when he catches Ace waking up in the middle of the night to stretch his neck or grasp his side would Ace have been skewered if Trey was a moment too late, would he have died if Cater's clone wasn't there, what if it was Cater himself

when he notices the eyebags that drag on Yuu's face even as they forgive Riddle he acts quickly

it is Deuce who asks to sleep over first after the overblot, saying he needs help studying, he doesn't mention his own nightmares of being surrounded by dead clones nor does he bring up Ace's sleepless night or the eyebags on Yuu's face, he is an NRC student after all

he knows he is not the smartest, he knows his faults more than anyone else but caring for his fellow first years is not one of them

honestly i think out of our trio deuce is the one who is always looking out for others, he is the one who checks on ace after he is kicked out, he is the one who stands up to riddle with ace, he is the one who even comforts azul directly after his overblot, he is the one who worries about epel unprompted. so it felt fitting to have his reason to sleepover at ramshackle to be other people

[spliceyblues]

He is going on my burn book for sure.

This fugly greedy little corporate rat be stealing wallets from twst players. DO NOT TRUST THIS RODENT‼️‼️‼️

[infernoflorys]

"humanity sucks i hate all people and we should just nuke the earth" i understand. have you considered that your heart is a muscle the size of your fist, so keep on loving, keep on fighting, and (hold on, and hold on) hold on for your life?

[tixdixl]

Rule 153 - TWST Ficlet

Words: 3300

Characters: Wén Xiáng, Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Riddle Rosehearts, Gia Yugo [ @ramshacklerumble ]

CW: Descriptions of dissociation and memory loss

The sound of turning pages accompanied the murmur of studious whispers. Steam rose from their collective teacups as the smell of peppermint and lemongrass wafted in the air. As the two of spades took a sip of his tea, the Scarabia freshman leaned over his textbook. His finger dragged across the page as he pointed at the text. Xiáng had been explaining the linear progression from one of their homework assignments for Deuce, who seemed to be going up against his personal weaknesses and disabilities as they reared their ugly heads. He barely noticed the porcelain clink against metal as the ace of hearts stirred his tea with a need to fidget. 

“This is so boring…” groaned Ace, “why do we even need to learn this stuff anyway?”

Xiáng glanced up from the textbook, catching a glimpse of the frustration written all over the card soldier’s face. 

“Dunno,” he answered with a shrug, before resuming his explanation to Deuce.

From across the table, he heard the grumble of disapproval before the ace of hearts interrupted him again, “No, because actually- I’ve never once used the pythagorean theorem outside of school. So then why do teachers act like we need to learn it if it's meaningless? This is no different than a normal school. If I knew college would be like this-”

“What?” came the soft, yet tremoring voice of the Heartslabyul housewarden, “You’d never have come?”

His voice had this quality that could shake mountains. Even when he didn’t raise his voice, he spoke like every deliberate word commanded a space. Few times had Xiáng actually heard the softness of volume actually match a softness of tone. Moreover, Xiáng doubted he had the capacity to truly be soft.

“H-Housewarden Rosehearts!” both card soldiers sounded like they’d been spooked, prepared to be roasted alive.

“Hi Riddle,” piped up the Ramshackle Prefect, who had been largely silent this entire time.

“Good to see you, Gia,” Riddle offered them a smile. A flicker of warmth entered his being as he acknowledged the prefect, before a wave of frigidity overcame his disposition. His gaze resembled wild fire as he reverted it towards Ace. Xiáng couldn’t stop his passive contented smile from falling as he continued, “Don’t tell me you’re planning on skipping, or are you considering quitting altogether?”

“What?” Ace growled, “No- I just don’t get why we have to do this stupid assignment. It’s not like it’s going to help us at all.”

Xiáng and Deuce exchanged a look. They had all collectively just recovered from Riddle’s Overblot. Riddle had stated that he would work on himself and his rigidity. But also, there was a truth that Ace had said some pretty horrific things aimed at Riddle; they both had said things, and truthfully, since he didn’t live in Heartslabyul and wasn’t there when the events unfolded, the Scarabia freshman couldn’t tell to what extent either of them meant it. To what extent they resented each other. And truthfully, he hadn’t even considered it until the two of them shared a look. The thought hadn’t occurred to him that heads could roll until the housewarden had spoken up. 

“Have you considered that perhaps you have to learn the foundations before you can apply them?” Riddle challenged him, his ire seeming to lessen slightly- a feat Xiáng couldn’t recall witnessing before. 

He blinked, glancing over at Ace to witness the shift in his expression. His brows furrowed, and the slightest bit of a pout threatened to appear on his face. His scarlet eyes, devoid of empathy, grew colder.

“Foundations, my ass,” Ace growled, “it’s just an excuse to have us do busy work.”

With a condescending smirk immediately rushing to his face, the housewarden placed a hand on top of the stack of grimoires seated firmly at the corner of the table. He leaned closer to the card soldier, his face only a foot away from the other’s. 

“Then why is it you can’t already enchant a broom to autonomously sweep the space without your presence?” the housewarden taunted him, “If it's so easy, why haven’t I seen you using that charm during your daily duties?”

“...just get a Roomba,” the prefect piped up once again. 

Everyone collectively froze. Various expressions of confusion littered the room as the collective turned their gazes to the prefect. The prefect, who had not looked up a single time during this entire exchange, seemed to realize what was happening without seeing it. They raised their head with a completely blank, almost vacant expression - almost akin to Xiáng’s - washed over their face. 

“...does it for you,” they explained in monotone, “No magic needed.”

“Riiiight…” Ace coughed, disbelief radiating off his posture. 

Xiáng immediately reverted his attention to the Heartslabyul students. Realizing he would have to wait for them to finish before he could continue, he slumped back into his seat, no longer leaning over Deuce’s textbook. 

“I never said it was easy,” Ace retorted, scrunching up his face at the housewarden, “Just that I didn’t understand what linear progressions had to do with magic.”

“Would you believe that magic, like science, is mathematical?” the sneer grew ever so largely on Riddle’s face.

“I’m gonna hurl,” the card soldier slumped further into his seat.

Across the table, color drained from the fact of the two of spades. As if hope itself were air, the spades soldier deflated further in his seat. The Scarabia student attempted to offer him the slightest bit of consolation as he placed a hand on his shoulder. They both then perked up just a tad as they caught movement in their periphery. Pulling a seat from across the common room, the housewarden pulled up a seat beside the struggling freshmen. 

“What’re you doing?” Xiáng asked genuinely.

“Assisting you all,” the housewarden replied with the smallest of smiles, “It’s my responsibility to ensure that every one in my dorm is able to succeed academically. Ace’s lamentations aside, it looks like your little study group could genuinely use some help.”

“It’s mainly me…” Deuce admitted, nervousness and shame creeping into his posture, “I’m just not getting this sequence right.”

The housewarden glanced up at the Scarabia student, “I take it you’ve been explaining things to him, Wén Xiáng?”

As the housewarden addressed him, Xiáng felt a bead of sweat emerge on his brow. He offered Riddle a nervous smile as he replied, “Trying to anyway.”

“What seems to be the problem?”

“I only really understand this method the way that our instructor presented it?” he stated, unsure of himself, “And somewhere around the movement from step 2 to step 3 has Deuce here all stumped.” 

“Let me see…”

Riddle gently took the book from Xiáng’s hands. As he watched the moment of his eyes, sweeping over the pages with a speed unparalleled, he felt himself almost zone out momentarily. Time and focus seemed to completely slip away from him until the moment Riddle gently cleared his throat. 

“Hey, Ace,” the housewarden asked quietly, “Would you mind pouring me a cup of tea?” 

“Sure, is peppermint fine?” Ace asked nonchalantly.

That question seemed to tear Riddle out of his concentration. He paused, slowly raising his head and looking Ace in the eye. Xiáng blinked. Instantly, he felt confused by the expression on Riddle’s face. He wouldn’t have described the expression as cross necessarily. The twitch in his brow almost preparing for the switch to flip. But why?

“Is it herbal?” Riddle asked, his tone a twinge darker than before.

“It’s peppermint and lemongrass,” Xiáng explained, confusion dripping from his words, “It’s a green tea.” 

A brief pause fell between them as a rose tint began to flush the housewarden’s cheeks.

“...is that… bad?” 

“...Boys,” Riddle addressed Ace and Deuce directly, “Want to explain to me why you didn’t educate the outsider on Rule 153?”

The confusion on the Scarabia student’s face immediately dissolved into a blank stare, devoid of any emotion. 

Rules… the silly Heartslabyul rules that he honestly forgot existed. And whenever anyone reminded him that they existed, he not only found himself punished for his ignorance, but when the rule was explained, he found that the rules were… at their core, arbitrary. The sorts of rules he expected the upper courts would use simply to control the average common folk. And worse, while Riddle Rosehearts could run around playing pretend, pretending to be the ruler of a non-existent kingdom and punish those who slighted him with fake beheadings, Xiáng for once recalled the treatment of those back home. Not quite beheadings, but the cruel reality that the imperial courts cared little for the wellbeing of those from his home. 

It took little time dwelling on the line of thought before he felt a small surge of magical energy, like a sharp, swift zap of electricity, traveling from his head down his spine. Certainly, this wasn’t the worst reaction his curse had inflicted in recent years. However, the quickness of which it reacted caught him completely off guard. A throbbing sensation in his eye and in his head tore him away very abruptly from his line of thought. Whatever conclusions he had been drawing, whatever dots he had connected, all of it had been knocked away. Like a leak in a dam, his attention now stolen away to try and alleviate the discomfort.

He grew stiff, trying to hide the sensation from those around him. They seemed too engaged in Riddle’s rant about the rule to notice. Then again… he wasn’t watching. And the words coming out of Riddle’s mouth had momentarily resembled the sound of a voice reverberating down a tube. 

“It is your responsibility to know and abide by the rules,” Riddle snapped, “Even if he is in Scarabia, he is a guest in our house, which means he abides by our rules.”

Xiáng blinked. His body relaxed slightly as he attempted to loosen his limbs. His eyes drifted toward the cross housewarden, though the right side of his vision had grown blurry and difficult to see.

“Sorry- what’s Rule 153?” Xiáng asked, interrupting the rant. He didn't intend to fully admit his disconnection with the moment, and yet, he genuinely didn’t know and likely had missed it being outlined. 

With brows furrowed, the housewarden’s eyes pierced through Xiáng’s head like nails in a coffin. He seemed to study the Scarabia student briefly before his brow twitched, relaxing subtly. Clearly the housewarden interpreted his blank expression and genuineness in his tone as they were, rather than insubordination. 

“Rule 153: The only tea you may drink in the evenings is herbal tea,” the housewarden stated matter-of-factly. 

“...and who does this rule benefit?” Xiáng asked in a monotone.

Riddle blinked, his eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly. 

“I beg your pardon?”

“To whom does this rule benefit?” he repeated himself, “I would expect that the aims would benefit the drinker, but in reality, it makes no difference on your health what type of tea you drink. Caffeine intake aside, all of them vary in their beneficial effects. So if the rule pertains nothing to the drinker, who does it benefit? What purpose does it serve?”

In the blur of his vision, he swore he saw the prefect raise their head from their book. And simultaneously, the two card soldiers exchanged a look.

“The Laws benefit those who serve the Queen,” the housewarden stated with full sincerity, “The Queen was always right, and it is our duty to uphold her traditions.”

“So the benefit then has nothing to do with the tea itself,” he remained monotone, “Rather, the benefit to the tea drinkers is remaining in the queen’s favor. Am I mistaken?”

“But of course!” Riddle gleamed, “The Queen’s ways are the only ways! Those who fail to oblige will lose their heads!”

“And what if the Queen’s ways are unjust…?” 

“What do you mean?” the housewarden snapped, his frustration slowly beginning to grow like a strangle weed to a flower bed, “The Queen’s ways are just. By keeping rigid order and making sure those who fall out of line are prevented from creating trouble.”

The Scarabia student paused. The mild throbbing in his eye a painful reminder not to let himself get wound up. As he drew in a deep breath, he cleared his mind a moment. Clearly, the conversation failed to make any progress. A brick wall would have moved sooner than their discussion, like a dog chasing its own tail. 

Opening his eyes once more, the Scarabia student picked up his cup of tea. A few fragments of leaves floated in a lull across the top of the murky liquid. Its aroma nevertheless potent as it had become lukewarm. As he took a sip, the flavor felt reminiscent of an elastic band to skin. Obviously, he had yet to fully recover. And yet despite this, the flavor seemed to bring him back to center. As much as any roller coaster would, he felt the exhaustion creep in. 

Once he had carefully placed his tea cup back on its saucer, his gaze returned to Riddle, who had been expectantly waiting for a response. 

“Let’s back up a bit, shall we?” Xiáng offered, deceptively handing the housewarden an olive branch as he smiled gently, “I want to understand what you mean by ‘the Queen’s ways being just’. Can you lay out for me how the system works?”

“Naturally!” Riddle exclaimed, his condescension drenching his words like a towel that’d been dropped into a sink. The housewarden glanced at the card soldiers, “And you both would do well to pay attention.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

He cleared his throat, “The Queen’s Laws have been written in permanent ink since as far back as evidence goes of her reign as one of the Seven. Each of these laws were representative of the culture and the needs of the Queen at the time. Citizens and guests, much like the Curious Girl, were expected to know and uphold these laws at all times- and ignorance was not permissible as an excuse.

“When a law was broken under the watchful eye of the Queen and her Card Soldiers, a trial would often not be deemed necessary unless requested by the defendant. After all, if the Queen saw it herself, there would be no question as to whether or not a law was broken. And by this understanding, many were sent to beheadings on the spot. 

“But in the case a trial had been demanded by the defendant, the defendant would be sworn onto the stand and several members of the community would be brought forth to testify. The jury, while present to take notes, often played no role in the determination of the case. This was of course because the verdict came after the sentence. Of course, the King had an opportunity to request witnesses, evidence, or even offer his own opinions. But when it came down to the sentence, the Queen always had the say- the only say, and the final say.” 

“So… if I understand correctly, the legal system functions solely based on the decisions and perspective of the Queen, regardless of the evidence, testimony, or actual innocence of the defendant?” The Scarabia student asked before bringing the tea to his lips again.

“That is correct,” answered the housewarden with a smile.

“Then, if the trial has nothing to do with justice, and everything to do with keeping ‘order’ and satisfying the Queen’s whims, how does this constitute a just legal system, with laws that are designed to benefit the people?” asked Xiáng, unwavering in his smile and his tone, “Wouldn’t it be inaccurate, or worse, dishonest, to account the system as such?”

The break in the conversation felt like glass shattering against stone. The color from Riddle’s face drained, as his eyes grew wide. He expected Riddle to fly off the handle in a rage. To sit there, call him insolent. Even go so far as to collar him again. And yet… despite this expectation, Riddle did nothing of the sort. Sure, he stared with an expression of undeniable disbelief but he didn’t immediately scream. He didn’t immediately set fire to the place. Instead, a slow, quiet, almost resistant breath entered his nostrils. His eyes flitted around like a fly, between staring Xiáng in the eye and the teacup in his hand. Another breath entered his lungs before he paused fully. He lowered the textbook in his hands to the table. With a clear attempt to pull himself together, he clamped his eyes shut. His hands wove together with a gesture of regathering composure. 

“Well…” he finally said, opening his eyes, “I suppose if we are to use ‘justice’ by its dictionary definition, in which ‘justice’ is defined by upholding and behaving based on what is morally right and fair, and respectful to the people…”

He paused, clearly fighting with himself.

“Then by the logic you have proposed, and the definitions therein, no. It is not a “Just” system.”

The housewarden then smiled, a mixture of genuineness and cocky attitude, “but it is orderly though, by the circumstances, cultures, and needs of the era.”

The opposing freshman held up his hands, as if to indicate backing off. 

“For sure,” Xiáng agreed, “I never intended to deny that. She absolutely kept things orderly and lawful.”

“...to your point though,” Riddle cleared his throat, “I do have to wonder… what does justice have to do with keeping people in line?”

The freshman hadn’t fully expected to be hit with the same sort of energy that he was dishing out, especially not by the infamous “Rose Red Tyrant” himself. After the times he’d spent seeing Riddle while studying with his classmates, however, he had come to expect a wit and a keen eye for dissecting the things he faced academically. He had reason to suspect that Riddle probably handled himself in similar fashion when it came to other students too. So… on second thought, maybe he should have expected this.

“Where I come from, people are most willing to agree and comply when they don’t have to question if they’re going to die tomorrow… when they know where their next meal is coming from…” he stated, “People tend to be afraid of what they don’t understand, and resistant to what they don’t know...”

He lost his train of thought. The thoughts in his head felt scrambled, but he hoped that what he could convey made enough sense to answer Riddle’s question. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he rubbed his eye. And as he looked back at the housewarden, he noticed an internal struggle occurring behind those usually piercing eyes. 

“Well… even if we don’t agree,” the housewarden side stepped his comment, as if to avoid diving any deeper into that, “I do ask that you try to follow the Rules as you are made aware of them. If nothing else to respect the traditions and culture of our dorm.”

“Oh, yeah,” Ace commented with a groan, “Like he’s aware of literally anything— OW!”

Deuce swatted at the other card soldier, in defense of their friend. 

“Be respectful to our guest,” Riddle chastised him, “At the very least, he’s offered to help study with you, which is welcoming enough. Which– we have carried this on for far too long. We’re collectively getting distracted.”

“...and whose fault is that?” Ace grumbled.

The housewarden shot him a glare, as the Scarabia freshman chuckled lightly from across the table. Flipping to the next page in the textbook, Riddle resumed his explanation, as he began to demonstrate a different method of problem solving for their assignment. None of their heads rolled. And… for once, Riddle’s presence overall felt far more helpful than detrimental. Maybe he was starting to change, even if he was kicking and screaming internally the entire time.

~~~

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