#so it was smart of them to choose him

[queenbeedarling]

I love it when the Losers make Richie to keep watch for Beverly's dad when she shows them the bathroom.

That kid has ADHD and doesn't know how to shut the fuck up, let alone wait patiently.

You just know he was out there kicking rocks and spinning in circles while probably either talking to himself or acting out some sort of scene with the different accents/voices he does.

I laugh just thinking of it

[the-last-butter]

HC they first met a year or two after Yelan got her vision; post fighting the in abyss but when Kaeya was still navigating his identity from Kaeya, Brother and Right hand of Diluc Ragnvindr to Kaeya Alberich, Cavalry Captain and Quarter master of the Knights of Favonius.

[turtleblogatlast]

I think a lot about Leo’s tendency to push his way into the spotlight despite clearly being a natural in the shadows. Hell, you could argue that his worst moments are when he’s forcing himself onstage, and his best are when he does things no one notices until it’s already been done.

[canisalbus]

hi i ride motorcycle year round and wanted to chime in. for vasco's small around-town trips he'd probably be fine with his ears free, but for longer trips at higher speeds or when its cold out he'd want them protected. probably by tucking them under his chin into the collar of a jacket and then putting a scarf or bandana on. also goggles would be helpful if a full helmet wasn't wanted. since they're in europe and around italy specifically he could have a nice ducati (fast rockety sport bikes) or a cafe racer (much more like a motorized bicycle but they can still have a lot of power) a cafe racer would offer a lot of seat space for machete to be thoroughly uncomfortable in lol

i love your ocs they're great thanks for all the cool art :)

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[petorahs]

entire time I read about Odysseus' character I just imagine pirate!Aventurine doing his cunning, manipulative things. and his unwavering, steady loyalty to his wife. bro.... I love that guy.

[pistatsia]

Karasu and control

I've been thinking about this for a while, and this part of Hiori's novel (previous reblog) just brought it back to my attention.

Karasu really likes to control things. I'm not saying he's a control freak, of course, but he certainly likes to feel a safe base beneath his feet. You can see this in his play style (when he gathers all the available information and acts only after that; his choice of France) and his fear of water (if I remember correctly, the thing that scares him the most in it is the unknown). AND also from the whole Marisa (his childhood crush) story (assuming it's true lol) - he's not the type to rush into anything: neither in relationships nor hobbies. I don't think he would have chosen to join Blue Lock if he wasn't really sure in his abilities. He's really mature about things like that.

I was thinking in the context of him probably going to university (data analysis please!) in addition to his sports career, since he seems like a really rational guy when it comes to serious stuff? He gives Hiori some great advice about not wasting his time on something he doesn't like, Ego mentions that his greatest skill is his analytical ability - he never acts because-he-just-feels-it, he was the one who argued with the referee in the U-20 game about Rin's injury (so responsible!), and generally acts very logically (except for the whole Hiori and his legs theme lol). I don't think he would be able to fully relate on the sport, he certainly knows about the statistics of failures and broken careers.

He loves football, of course, but he is really right about "people who only play football can't become great players". But that's more because for Karasu, it's unrealistic to be stable (which is sometimes a deciding point in the game) when your whole life depends on it. When everything relies on you winning. Karasu really has a glimpse of Snuffy's philosophy in that, and it's great to see that in the character: Failing at one thing doesn't say anything about you. And you should always be more than one thing to have the right mental balance.

That's what makes him so strong - not that he'll never fail. Of course one day he will.

But rather the knowledge that he has done everything to be stable in case of failure; that any possible failure will not ruin his life. 

Because he has made sure that his back is covered.

[hapigairu]

Some Cyril appreciation featuring his mom:

[fortune-maiden]

Something something cat box

Something something quantum superposition

Something something only by Lu Guang observing the past change when Cheng Xiaoshi dives into it can the present change

[asterdeer]

sam winchester and jon sims. smth about being a groomed+prepared vessel for evil beings since childhood/infancy. smth about growing up with no agency except what you can scrape together with nothing but your own smarts and instincts. smth about that agency never really mattering anyway because the forces that want to use you are too strong to fight against, not when they've had you for so long. smth about never having a choice about the monstrousness that has been forced on you but everyone hates you for it anyway, wants to hurt or kill you for it, even the people who are supposed to be on your side, the ones who would rather you die in human agony than live in a way they can't or won't understand. smth about grasping at your own monstrousness as the only source of power in an incomprehensible world that has literally been rigged against you from the start. smth about doing everything you can to use that monstrousness, all the pain and helplessness you've suffered, to help other people, and it's never enough. it has to be enough but it is never enough. smth about how no one you love will ever look at you with complete trust and faith ever again because you've been tainted for good, and finally you end up agreeing with them, that the best and only right outcome is your death.

[blastthechaos]

When you think about it, Naeceles is like the Savvy Guy, Genki Girl dynamic that looks switched only that it actually plays it straight. Since Makoto is the down to earth guy exasperated with his girlfriend extravagance (but still loves her anyways) while Celeste is the girl who lives in her own fantasy world with her fake name, made up crazy life and chasing an wacky dream who drags her boyfriend around for all her activities.

Ok I know it's not 1:1 with the trope and Celeste is barely Genki but you get my point.

[light-wrath-paradise]

I am curious about the beef jayvik shippers have with Mel lovers and vice versa but you know what I think I don't want to know.

having your two favorite arcane characters be viktor and mel AND shipping jayvik at the same time is like. on one hand i cannot stop collecting w's but also the whole fandom has it out for me cuz the jayvik shippers hate mel and the mel lovers hate jayvik. why cant we all just hold hands. why must we fight.

[maskedbyghost]

Part 3 of Simon Leaving During Sex Like a Coward

It started with flowers. It’s not the kind you grab at the corner store in a panic, but ones clearly ordered days in advance — expensive, moody ones, all dark reds and deep purples. You didn’t open the door when they arrived immediately. You just stood behind it, your arms crossed, and watched them through the peephole before deciding to get them.

On day two, he texted.

I know I don’t deserve a reply. I just want you to know I’m not giving up.

You left it on read on purpose. And it felt good.

On day three, he was parked outside your building when you came back from work. Just standing there with his hands in his pockets, looking up when you approached, but not moving toward you.

“You stalking me now?” You said, not slowing your pace.

He didn’t smile. “No. I’m just here in case you feel like yelling at me in person today.”

You didn’t. You went upstairs and slammed the door a little harder than necessary, and when you looked out the window twenty minutes later, he was still standing there, doing absolutely nothing. Just waiting. Like a dog. A huge, sad, apologetic dog.

You caved on day five.

“Fine,” you’d said, opening the door just enough to stare at him through the gap. “You want a chance? Take me out. And I swear to God if you bring me to some ‘cozy little place’ where the waitress flirts with you, I will throw your wallet in a river.”

He didn’t even blink. “Got it.”

The first date was at a sushi place where the staff barely looked up. You sat across from him in silence until he cleared his throat.

“You look good,” he said, nervous in a way you’d never seen before.

“I know.”

He cracked a smile. You didn’t.

For a second date, he chose a little cafe by the river. You sipped your drink while he talked about stupid things, about his neighbor's cat and how he chipped a tooth once in a pub fight because he tripped over a pool cue — anything to fill the space. You just listened.

“You don’t say much anymore,” he said quietly after a while.

“I said you could take me out. Didn’t say I’d make it easy.”

He nodded, like he agreed with the punishment.

On the third date, he let you choose. You picked laser tag. You didn’t go easy. You shot him in the back six times and made fun of how slow he was, called him grandpa, and asked if he needed a sit-down break. He called you a menace and grinned through all of it. When the round ended, and you were both panting in the hallway, he looked at you with something like relief.

“You smiled,” he said, like it physically pained him to notice.

“It was at your expense,” you said, wiping sweat from your neck.

“Still counts.”

By the fifth date, you were letting him walk beside you without an awkward amount of space. Still no kissing. He reached for your hand once, and you pulled away with a look so sharp he apologized out loud.

“You don’t get to touch me yet,” you said.

“Right.”

“But you can carry my leftovers.”

“Yes ma’am.”

He got the tattoo on a Tuesday.

Didn’t tell you about it. He just showed up at your door again, holding your favorite overpriced dessert like it was a peace offering. You opened the door and immediately raised an eyebrow.

“No flowers today?”

“Didn’t think they’d survive the guilt trip you were gonna hit me with.”

“Smart.”

He stepped inside when you let him. “I got something,” he said, scratching the back of his neck.

“If it’s another apology letter I’m gonna start framing them like art.” You said with a smirk on your face.

He didn’t say anything. Just tugged off his glove and held up his left hand. On the inside of his ring finger, you could see fresh ink. Your name in cursive letters.

“…Are you serious?”

“Dead.”

You stared. “You tattooed my name on your ring finger.”

“Mhm.”

“Like. Where a ring would go.”

“Exactly.”

You blinked at him, still shocked.

“If this doesn’t prove how sure I am about you,” he said slowly, “then I dunno what will… but just to be safe—” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, sleek black bag from that stupid luxury brand you once mentioned in passing. “Bribery.”

You snorted despite yourself. “You really think a designer bag’s gonna make me forgive you?”

He looked sheepish. “No. But I thought it’d make you laugh.”

You took it from his hand. “I’ll laugh when I sell it and buy ten pairs of shoes.”

“That’s fair.”

You opened the bag. Inside was your favorite candy, a folded napkin from the cafe, and a tiny note that said “I remember everything.”

You didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then...

“You’re really not gonna give up, huh?”

“Never.”

You sighed. “Fine. You can kiss my forehead.”

He chuckled as he leaned in gently, pressed his lips just there, warm and steady, and didn’t ask for more.

It wasn’t until weeks later, after more petty jokes and slow conversations and him learning exactly how many hoops you’d make him jump through, that you finally let him spend the night again. You were already in bed when he came back from brushing his teeth, and you didn’t say anything as he slipped under the covers. Just pulled him in, hands on his chest, legs sliding over his, the way they used to.

He kissed you carefully. Like he didn’t want to push it. But you tugged him in with both hands, and he pressed you down into the mattress like it hadn’t been months, like he was starving for every second of you.

When he was finally inside you again, moving slowly, sweat running down his spine, and arms shaking from trying to hold back, he looked at you like he could cry.

“I love you,” he said, voice breaking open on the words.

You rolled your eyes, breathless. “Is it my turn now to leave orr…?”

He groaned and dropped his forehead to your shoulder, muttering something about you being a nightmare, and you just laughed and wrapped your legs around him tighter, because you knew damn well he liked it that way.

---------------------------------------------

idkkk....i kinda lost inspiration halfway...sorry if this sucks..

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbaybay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6 @tessakate @xocandyy @nightfwn @robinfeldt98 @xiisblogs @mad-die45 @readingthingy @actualpoppy @amongthe141 @whore4romance @thatghostlykid

[satanfemme]

shared this over DMs the other day but I need to go public with this information. if patrick bateman lived in the pokemon universe his partner pokemon would be a pikachu because he is preoccupied with fitting in and conforming, and a pikachu is basically the trendiest and most "normal" pokemon for someone to have. and he would hate it because he didn't choose it out of a place of genuine love or passion. but he would still spend way too much time feeding it gourmet food, grooming it, and keeping it looking nice enough that it could honestly do pretty well in a contest if he ever entered it in one. but he wouldn't enter it in one, he would keep it in a designer pokeball most of the time and he wouldn't even be very nice to it (we literally have canonical information on how he'd treat a captured rat...). but all his coworkers and friends and such would see him pampering this perfectly bred pikachu and they'd think he's some kind of pokemon expert and they'd ask him questions all the time about which pokemon are best for which lifestyles, and idk shit like that. and he'd watch enough talk shows and read enough popular magazines that of course he would be able to bullshit smart-sounding advice for them but he would hate it, he would hate it so much, and he would hate pokemon and he would be miserable.

[literallymechanical]

GOd okay I went to my neighbor’s housewarming, and don’t get me wrong, I love parties (if everybody doesn’t give me  all of their attention all the time and tell me that i’m smart and funny and pretty I’ll DIE), but I forget how stressful it is to introduce yourself to new people when you work in a politically charged field.  The whole evening was this:

Party Guest:  So, have you lived in the area long?

[Okay, let’s think. White male, thirties, tall, muscle tee, sandals, wedding ring, but here without a partner.  I just overheard him complaining about tariffs, so he’s either left-leaning or a disillusioned republican.  Good sign, definitely not MAGA.  Ah, that’s right, he brought his daughters – ages 5 and 7, well-behaved in a crowd – and they’re wearing princess dresses… doting father with an active role in raising his kids, lets them choose their own outfits… my gut is telling me heterosexual male feminist.  That could be good or bad – statistically speaking, he believes in climate change… but that means 50/50 odds of anti-nuclear sentiment.  I need more information, but I must answer carefully.  We’re rapidly approaching the Question.]

Me: Not long!  I just moved down from Boston a few months ago –

[Ball is in his court.  Boston has been in the news lately for being an immigrant sanctuary city, but that’s mostly local news – I’ll get information based on body language.  Oh, I may have made a tactical error.  This is an opportunity for sports rivalry to come up, and I am ill-educated on the subject.  Quick, I need a counter maneuver.] 

Me: – but I actually grew up in the area.

[Good save, and a decent delaying action.  If he takes the bait, I can redirect the conversation to local childhood reminiscence.  He’s had two margaritas, and they’re starting to affect him – talking a bit too loud, and his expansive hand gestures bespeak more than typical New Jerseyan gregariousness.  That could be to my advantage… unless it makes him too bold].

Party Guest:  Coming back home for family, or is it a work thing?

[Shit, okay, he asked about work.  This could be the endgame… but he’s foolishly thrown me a lifeline.  I can’t lie, the hosts already know the real answer, but I can dissemble by playing to his fatherly conversational weak spots.]

Me:  I moved for work, but my family does live nearby, so that’s a nice perk as well.  I get to see my nephews a lot more often!  The eldest just turned five.

[That should do it.  My nephews are about the same age as his kids, which will build a rapport and redirect the conversation back to himself.  It should be easy to get him talking about his daughters.  Unless… oh no.  He’s two drinks in on a Sunday night and working on a third in front of his children, while his wife stays home.  She wakes up earlier than him, potentially much earlier.  He’s been talking about the economy a lot.  Damn, recently laid off?  He’s going to focus on work.]

Party Guest: That’s awesome.  What sort of job?

[The brilliant bastard.  He’s good, he’s very good.  Truly a worthy opponent.  Pierced right through every single gambit and went straight to the Question. Have I met my match? Will I finally be humbled?  It’s do or die.]

Me:  I’m an engineer at an energy company.

[Alea iacta est.]

Party Guest:  Energy?

[Last chance.  He's intelligent and fiendishly clever, but hope against hope that he’s more well-read in Aristotle than Rutherford.  This should dead-end him]

Me:  Nuclear, kind of. Fusion, not fission.

Party Guest:  Oh, that sounds cool.

Me:  Mhm.  So, how do you know Bill and Stephanie?

Party Guest:  I was in film school with Bill.  Have you seen his documentary?

[Ha. Another victory, all the sweeter for having been hard-fought. Time for a celebratory cornichon, maybe some crackers]

[suiana]

rejected! yandere who keeps crawling back to you ni matter how many times you've rejected him. like he genuinely doesn't know how to take no for an answer and he's persistent as FUCK.

"may god send you awful men until you choose me"

"bro stfu"

you don't know whether this is a tactic to wear you down or he's just genuinely dumb. because tell me why you've seen him loop an area five times just to realise he's going the wrong direction???

he's the type of guy who looks smart and sexy but is really just an awkward mess that REALLY likes you. like, getting on his knees and putting aside his ego+masculinity for a chance with you.

"when will you stop dining with losers and come eat shrimp with a lobster."

"what?"

"come eat shrimp with a lobster."

"what??"

"come eat shrimp with a lobster."

you know how you have the manipulative, calculative ruin your life so you fall on them kind of yanderes? well this is the opposite. yeah he's gonna manipulate you. but at his own expense. after all how are you going to reject someone that's crying and wailing for you in the rain?

well you can.

because he's a loser and he's practically harmless.

the worst he'll do is cry some more and beg you to love him.

he's... the type of man to be pathetic and curse other guys who approach you. the type of man who use the same approach to asking you out (aka professing his love in front of your day at 8 in the morning everyday) and wonder why you're rejecting him. the type of guy to go on roblox and try to edate you only to get banned.

"my mom asked when we're getting married ☺️"

"we're not."

"☹️"

yeah, he's a fucking loser go but at least he has balls to confess. unlike some of you 😝 #beboldandconfesstoday

[solxamber]

And I Choose...

In which you pick the dorm you want to join

Part 1: Choose Us

Heartslabyul

You never thought you’d see the day when you’d be willingly moving into Heartslabyul, but here you were, standing at the entrance with your bags (and Grim, who was loudly complaining about the lack of a tuna fountain).

Riddle was the first to greet you, looking as composed as ever. “Welcome to Heartslabyul,” he said, hands clasped behind his back. His voice was formal, but the slight upward twitch of his lips betrayed his excitement. “I trust you’ll follow the rules properly now that you’re part of this dorm.”

Before you could respond, Trey appeared beside him, looking far more relaxed. “We’re glad to have you here,” he said with a warm smile. “I already saved you a slice of cake—figured you’d need a snack after all the chaos today.”

Bless this man. Truly.

“Say cheese!”

You barely had time to process Cater’s voice before you were blinded by the flash of his phone. “Oh my Sevens, the new dormie vibe is immaculate! This is totally going on Magicam!” He snapped another selfie, this time pulling you into the frame. “And guess what? I’m using my clones to make moving day a breeze! You’re welcome!”

True to his word, Cater’s clones were already grabbing your stuff. You stared in disbelief as three Cater clones carried a single small bag together while laughing like they were in a cheesy sitcom. Efficiency clearly wasn’t their strong suit, but at least they were trying.

And then there was Ace and Deuce. The moment you’d announced your decision to join Heartslabyul, the duo had erupted into what could only be described as the most uncoordinated, chaotic victory dance you’d ever seen.

Deuce was spinning in circles like he was trying to summon a tornado, while Ace alternated between bad breakdancing and finger guns pointed at no one in particular. “We won! We won!” they chanted, completely ignoring the way Riddle’s eye was twitching in disapproval.

“You know,” you said, watching them make absolute fools of themselves, “I think I made the right choice.”

Grim snorted from his perch on one of your bags. “You’re surrounded by idiots, henchhuman.”

“Maybe,” you said with a grin. “But they’re my idiots.”

Savanaclaw

The moment you announced that you’d chosen Savanaclaw, chaos erupted.

Jack’s tail started wagging so hard it was like a propeller trying to take off. You half-expected him to lift into the air. “You won’t regret it,” he said, his usually calm voice brimming with excitement. “We’ll make sure you feel at home here.”

Ruggie wasted no time grabbing you in a headlock and giving you the noogie of a lifetime. “I knew you’d make the smart choice! You, me, and all this bribe cash—donuts for a whole year, easy! You’re officially part of the Savanaclaw hustle now!”

“Ruggie, I swear, if you ruin my hair—”

But the true shocker was Leona. At first, he played it cool, lounging lazily in his chair like your decision was no big deal. “Hmph, took you long enough,” he said, voice dripping with fake indifference. But then, as if he couldn’t help himself, the corner of his mouth lifted into a smug grin.

And that’s when he pulled out his phone.

“Leona, what are you doing?” you asked, watching as he sidled up to you with the confidence of a king.

“Taking a picture. Gotta rub this in a little.”

Before you could protest, he snapped a selfie of the two of you. Then, with the smoothness of a man who knew exactly what he was doing, he took another.

One went to Vil. The other went to Malleus.

The captions?

To Vil: "Looks like I win. Stay beautiful, princess."

To Malleus: "Better luck next time, lizard."

You groaned, face burning. “Leona, was that really necessary?”

“Absolutely,” he said, slipping his phone back into his pocket and smirking like the cat who caught the canary. “Welcome to the pack, herbivore.”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help smiling. Maybe Savanaclaw wasn’t such a bad choice after all.

Octavinelle

The second you announced you were choosing Octavinelle, chaos descended faster than you could say “Mostro Lounge.”

Floyd let out an earsplitting cheer and, before you could blink, scooped you up and tossed you into the air like a beach ball.

“Shriiiimpy’s ours now!” he cackled, catching you before launching you up again like he was testing the room's ceiling height.

“Floyd, please!” you yelled, your life flashing before your eyes as you flailed. “I don’t wanna meet the Great Seven this soon!”

Eventually, Jade stepped in, placing a hand on Floyd’s shoulder. “Now, now, Floyd. Let’s not accidentally lose our new dormmate to an untimely accident. We wouldn’t want to scare them away before they’ve even unpacked.”

Floyd, grumbling, set you down but kept a firm arm around your shoulders, as if daring you to second-guess your decision.

Jade, meanwhile, adjusted his gloves with a serene smile that somehow felt a little too sharp. “Welcome to Octavinelle,” he said smoothly. “It’s wonderful to have you with us. I assure you, you’ll be treated with the utmost care here.” He looked way too pleased with himself, his gaze lingering like he was already planning your initiation.

Then there was Azul.

Azul looked like he’d just won a billion Madol jackpot. His eyes gleamed, and for a moment, it seemed like he was going to break into a little dance right there in the lounge. But then, with Herculean effort, he composed himself, clasping his hands and clearing his throat.

“Well, this is certainly a wise choice,” he said, adjusting his glasses like he hadn’t just been doing mental cartwheels. “I’m honored you’ve decided to join Octavinelle. We’ll make sure all your needs are taken care of.”

But then… he slid a very familiar-looking contract across the counter.

“Of course,” Azul added with a dazzling smile, “just a small formality. You see, this document simply guarantees that you’ll remain a proud Octavinelle student until graduation—oh, and a few other things.”

You stared at the contract hoping it might spontaneously combust. “Azul. I literally just joined. Can I have a minute to breathe before I sign my soul away?”

“No rush, no rush!” Azul said, not looking remotely deterred. “Take your time. But, ah—do keep in mind that signing sooner ensures the best possible benefits…”

As Jade handed you a drink (which you were very suspicious of) and Floyd draped himself over you, already talking about all the “fun” you’d have together, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d just made a deal with the devil.

Still, as Azul's smug smile softened into something almost genuine, you decided it wasn’t the worst deal in the world.

Scarabia

The moment you announced your decision, Kalim was on you like a whirlwind.

“YOU CHOSE SCARABIA!!” he yelled, tackling you into a hug so tight you thought you might pop like a balloon. Before you could even gasp for air, he was spinning you around the common room like you were some kind of trophy he’d just won.

“This is AMAZING! We’re gonna have so much fun! Parties! Feasts! Adventures! You’re gonna love it here!” Kalim babbled, his infectious excitement making it hard to even feel dizzy despite the rapid spinning.

“Kalim,” you wheezed, clutching his shoulders, “please put me down before my life flashes before my eyes.”

“Oh, right!” he said, gently setting you down with a sheepish laugh. “I got carried away. I’m just so happy!”

As you tried to steady yourself, a much calmer—but no less relieved—voice spoke from behind Kalim.

“I’m glad you chose Scarabia,” Jamil said, his expression carefully composed, though you could see the faintest hint of relief in his eyes.

You blinked at him, surprised. “Really?”

“Yes,” Jamil replied, crossing his arms and glancing away like he didn’t want to elaborate. But after a beat, he sighed and added, “You’re one of the few people here who keeps things balanced. With you around, maybe I’ll have a chance to stay sane.”

Your heart melted a little at his quiet admission, even as Kalim jumped in again, declaring he’d throw a party that night to celebrate your move.

“Let’s get food! Music! Oh, we should decorate your room! Jamil, can we hang up those golden lanterns I found last week? And—”

“Kalim,” Jamil interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose but unable to hide the faint smile tugging at his lips, “one thing at a time. Let them breathe.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the dynamic, feeling a warm sense of belonging already. Scarabia might be a lot, but it felt like home.

Pomefiore

The second you announced your decision, Epel let out a laugh so sinister it would’ve sent chills down a villain’s spine. “HA! TAKE THAT, EVERYONE ELSE!” he shouted, whipping out his phone to snap a selfie with you.

Of course, Rook popped into the frame with perfect timing, striking an overly dramatic pose as Epel sent the picture straight to the first-year chat. “VICTORY IS OURS!” was the only caption needed.

Before you could even blink, Rook had swooped in, bowing theatrically. “Ah, mon cher, your choice has blessed us with the most magnifique triumph! Let us celebrate with a dance!”

You barely had time to protest before he twirled you around the room like you were in some period drama. His excitement was so contagious you almost didn’t notice when he dipped you dramatically—until you felt yourself tipping back, only to be caught by Vil.

“Honestly, Rook,” Vil sighed, steadying you with all the grace in the world. “Do try not to give them whiplash their first day.”

He turned to you, his usual poised demeanor firmly in place, though the faint smile tugging at his lips betrayed his true feelings. “Welcome to Pomefiore,” he said, his voice soft, yet commanding. “You’ve made the right decision.”

You were about to respond when Vil, ever the perfectionist, immediately began fussing over your uniform. “Honestly, you can’t be seen like this. Your tie is uneven, and—Rook, stop standing there and help them adjust their collar properly!”

As Vil worked, meticulously fixing every little detail, you couldn’t help but notice the gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. He might’ve been playing it cool, but there was no hiding how pleased he was to have you here.

Epel and Rook, meanwhile, had started arguing about who deserved the credit for your choice, while Vil made it very clear that it was his influence that sealed the deal.

And just like that, your chaotic new life in Pomefiore began.

Ignihyde

The moment the words “I’m choosing Ignihyde” left your mouth, Idia froze like someone had yanked his power cord out. His hair flickered erratically, and for a second, you thought he might actually pass out.

“Big Brother? Big Brother!” Ortho shook him frantically, his mechanical arms making a soft whirring sound. “Stay with us! They chose us! You can’t glitch out now!”

Idia finally snapped back to reality, though his face was still pale, his hair sputtering like a dying neon sign. “W-Wait, what?! You…chose here? Are you serious? This isn’t like, a prank, right? Did Ortho bribe you?!”

“No pranks, no bribes. I chose Ignihyde,” you said, trying not to laugh at his genuine bewilderment.

He blinked rapidly, processing your words. “B-But the PowerPoint… I thought it was way too cringe. I mean, I had like, fifty slides about food optimization! Who’d find that interesting?! You were supposed to be like, ‘Ew, no thanks,’ and leave!”

“Actually, I thought it was kind of cute,” you admitted, watching as his hair flared a bright pink.

“C-CUTE?! AAHH, STOP, YOU CAN’T JUST SAY THINGS LIKE THAT!” He clutched his hoodie like his heart was going to short-circuit.

“Big Brother, calm down!” Ortho interjected, practically beaming. “They chose us! Isn’t this the best thing ever?”

Idia rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze darting anywhere but at you. “…So, uh, do you wanna, like…celebrate or something? I-I mean, I know you probably have better things to do, b-but if you wanna…play a game or something, that’d be cool.”

You smiled. “I’d love to.”

Ortho let out an excited cheer and zipped over to hug you tightly, his arms surprisingly warm. “Welcome to Ignihyde! I’m so happy you’re here! This is gonna be the best!”

As Ortho buzzed around you, already listing off all the things you could do together, you caught Idia sneaking a shy glance your way. His hair was still flickering pink, and he looked like he couldn’t believe this was real.

You weren’t sure what life in Ignihyde would bring, but if it meant seeing Idia like this—flustered, happy, and maybe a little hopeful—you knew you’d made the right choice.

Diasomnia

The moment you announced you’d chosen Diasomnia, Sebek practically burst into flames.

“OF COURSE YOU CHOSE DIASOMNIA!” he boomed, puffing up with pride. “It’s the only logical choice! With the Young Master here, there was no other dorm worthy of your presence!”

Silver chuckled softly at Sebek’s theatrics, stepping forward with a kind smile. “Welcome to Diasomnia. I’m glad you’re joining us. Let me know if you need help moving your things—I’ll be happy to assist.”

Before you could respond, Lilia appeared out of thin air, laughing like a mischievous ghost. “Ah, welcome, welcome! We’ve been expecting you…or at least, I have. Let me go fetch Malleus so he can hear the good news himself!” And with that, he vanished in a puff of green smoke, leaving you blinking at the empty spot he’d occupied seconds before.

Malleus arrived moments later, his towering presence filling the room. His emerald eyes softened as they landed on you. “I heard you’ve made your decision. Have you truly chosen Diasomnia as your dorm?”

You smiled up at him. “Yeah, I chose Diasomnia.”

The way his face lit up was unlike anything you’d ever seen. His usual composed demeanor melted into something warmer, brighter. He almost looked…giddy.

“This pleases me greatly,” he said, his voice rumbling with quiet joy. “Come. I’ll give you a proper tour of our dorm.”

You didn’t even get a chance to answer before he gently ushered you forward, beginning the grand tour of Diasomnia. Lilia popped in and out of nowhere as you walked, adding bizarre and entirely unnecessary facts.

“And over there,” Lilia said, gesturing to a decorative suit of armor, “is what I wore when I once tripped and almost spilled soup on Malleus when he was a child. Ah, good times.”

Malleus sighed but didn’t stop him. “This area is the library. Feel free to browse the shelves at your leisure. I can show you my favorite tomes later.”

“And this hallway is where Sebek shouted for the first time when he thought Malleus was missing! Nearly shattered all the windows,” Lilia added with a grin.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the whole thing feeling so surreal yet oddly comforting. Silver walked quietly beside you, throwing in the occasional useful tidbit, while Sebek followed behind, grumbling something about Lilia not taking the tour seriously.

By the time the tour ended, you felt strangely at home. The eccentricity, the warmth, the oddly familial atmosphere—it all wrapped around you like a cozy blanket.

Malleus turned to you, his expression soft but sincere. “You’ll be safe here. I’ll personally see to it.”

Lilia smirked. “Safe and well-fed. I’ll whip up something special to celebrate!”

“Please don’t,” Sebek muttered, but you just laughed, already feeling like you belonged.

Secret ending: Ramshackle

When you finally dragged yourself back to Ramshackle, you were met with Grim, lounging on the couch like he hadn't a care in the world.

"Well, henchhuman? Which dorm are we moving to? I hope you picked the one with the best tuna," he yawned, tail flicking lazily.

You slumped down next to him, groaning. "None of them."

Grim's ears perked up. "Huh? What do ya mean, none of them?!"

"I told Crowley to just fix the worst parts of this place. I’d rather stay here. Everyone’s so excited for me to join their dorm—I don’t wanna disappoint them."

Grim blinked at you, then shrugged like it didn’t matter. "Eh, as long as you're still my henchhuman, I don’t care. Besides, this place has character! And by character, I mean it’s haunted, but still."

The next day, Crowley gathered the staff and shared your decision with them. You’d half-expected him to brush off his promise, but to your utter shock, the teachers actually…pitched in.

Vargas showed up first, flexing dramatically. "Alright! Time to show these walls the power of my biceps! I’ll have this place sturdy in no time!" He started hammering away, though you were slightly concerned when he tried to patch a hole in the ceiling using a workout bench.

Trein followed, shaking his head disapprovingly. "This building is a historical relic, and it deserves proper restoration." He brought Lucius along, who mostly supervised by napping in different corners.

Crewel arrived next, snapping his gloves on. "We’re not half-assing this. Ramshackle is getting a full makeover. And you’re going to help, pup. Start scrubbing those floors. Chop, chop!"

Even Sam surprised you by popping up with a toolbox and a grin. "Can’t have my favorite customer living in a death trap, can I? Plus, a little investment in the neighborhood never hurts business!"

The repairs were chaotic but effective. You spent days dodging Vargas’ overly enthusiastic demolition attempts, enduring Trein’s lectures on historical preservation, and running errands for Crewel while he barked orders like you were a rookie in boot camp.

By the end of it, Ramshackle was almost unrecognizable. The roof no longer leaked, the walls were sturdy, and the floors didn’t creak like a ghost was stalking you (though you were pretty sure the ghosts were still there, just quieter).

Grim looked around, nodding in approval. "Not bad, huh? Maybe this place isn’t such a dump anymore."

You smiled, patting his head. "Yeah, it’s still home."

And as you settled back into your slightly less ramshackle life, you couldn’t help but feel a little grateful. Sure, your dorm might not have been the flashiest or fanciest, but it was yours. And that was more than enough.

Masterlist