#t.manor.drabbles

[cvlutos]

TW: SUGGESTIVE

Imagine them drawing circles into your skin while you sleep, lips grazing the shell of your ear as they whisper. Theyd never say it to your face, how much they missed you. Longed for you. Waiting for the moment they could come home and return to you. They never tell you just how much they thought about you, how bored they found themselves without you. How they wish you couldve been with them.

Imagine them peppering kisses along your skin, slow, drawn out kisses that sends shivers. That has you shifting further into their embrace with a gentle groan. Your brows furrowing as his hand lies flat against your skin, gently squeezing your flesh before sliding down, their thumb grazing over the elastic band separating all of you from all of him.

+ ANY OF YOUR FAVES

[cvlutos]

What do you think the most romantic way for Jade to use his unique magic on us would be? There's the classic "He doubts our feelings and uses his UM to ask us if we really love him" or the "Are you cheating on me?" or him using it just to tease you before you get together and ask us "Who do you have a crush on?"

Most realistically he wouldn't use it just because, wouldn't waste it on a question concerning love, or wouldn't use it cause he knows everything already without it.

♡ J.L | AN INKLING | FLUFF

Jade Leech wouldn't actually use it. Merely playing upon all your weaknesses, knowing what makes you shy, embarrassed, flustered. Cornering you in a dark hall and towering over you, even if he's not that much taller that you, but it feels like he is. Lips curled into a preying smile, as a shark cornering a defenseless fish, as he tilts in head in faux worry, asking if somethings wrong.

"So silent. Am I far too close?" He knows he is, nails grazing along your face and if for a moment you flinch, he's clicking his tongue with a disapproving headshake, his hand fully grabbing your cheeks, forcing you to look at him, making direct eye contact.

"Shock the heart~"

Any reaction, in quick gasp for breath, the twitching of your lips, the widening of your eyes or pupils, the flushing of your skin, the beating of your heart. He doesn't need the spell to know your true feelings, simply pretending gives it all away, and when he pulls away, placing his hand over his heart and bowing, you know, he knows. For his smile seems slightly wider than before.

Pleased with his discovery. Amused that his very own hypothesis was proved correct. "I will be leaving, dear, perfect. I await your arrival at the lounge."

[cvlutos]

thoughts on kaeya

The way I was gonna be like, "he's cold as ice" but that's silly... But I also adore Kaeya so I'm writing little headcannons and random Kaeya thoughts.

♡ THOUGHT ON KAEYA

He's sweet. Really sweet, especially when he's not being sassy and sarcastic on missions. Always saying 'thank you' with a shy head scratch, dipping his head with an embarrassed smile as he's greeted by little old ladies, who absolutely adore him.

For someone whose literal element is cryo, he has such a warm personality that draws people in. He has such a calm and relaxed grin, always sitting relaxed no matter where he goes. Always greeting familiar faces and asking how they are, unbothered if they go off rambling, cause he'll always smile and show his interest.

Kaeya also has a RSF [Resting Sad Face], especially when he's alone, his facial muscles relaxing into a frown when he's in thought, even when he's merely thinking about some chores left undone. And when he's caught, he's quite embarrassed, yet laughing it off as he presses his cheek against his palm. Teasing you for being so concerned.

Kaeya likes sharing his food, especially if it's something you enjoy. I believe it's a habit from childhood, where he and Diluc often shared their food, it's a habit Kaeya can't shake. Always swearing that he got far too much to eat for just himself, but has this satisfied smile when you take the portion he saved. [He tries to eat dinner with you often whenever you're around and he isn't busy.]

When he sneezes, a gust of frosty air escapes from his nose, when he gets overly embarrassed, he can accidentally freeze himself in his seat or freeze cups and bottles in his hand, which is partially why he wears gloves.

Kaeya loves hugs, he won't go actively asking for one, but if you so happened to grace him with one, he's easily accepting it, slightly teasing you for being so eager to see him. [As if his heart isn't racing.]

[cvlutos]

♡ V.S | ANGER | ANGST [TW: YELLING, SHOUTING, AGGRESSION, TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, SELF HATRED, DEGRADING]

You hate when he's angry.

When he's upset and you can't calm him, where his rants turn into picking at his own flaws. Drowning himself in his self-hatred, tugging at the strands of blonde, that isn't quite blonde enough—nitpicking at how his lavender ends arent that lavender, even if he hand picked and hand mixed the dye. He can't stand it. Staring—loathing his very own expression. Hating his very face that's plaster like stickers upon a wall, for everyone's eyes to constantly see and because they see him, they think know him. They don't—They could never understand nor comprehend the ugly witch that lies beneath. He hates the way he looks, the way he talks, how he can't break out of whatever box he's forced himself in too. Yes, the villain. He'll play the role, play that bastard role that only tightens his chains and makes him feel so ugly. Yet if he stops, he's forgotten, blamed,

So very worthless.

You hate when he's angry, because then nothing in his eyes is beautiful. If he cannot deem himself, the epitome of perfect, you. How dare you think he'd view you beautiful? How dare you think you have any power in your words to try and calm him as if he's some animal and you his master. You should remember your place. Beneath him, like every other damn nobody at this school. Nobody's who never had to work a hard day in their miserable, pathetic life but has everything—every opportunity placed upon a silver platter and fed by their personal maids and butlers, yet whine still. He'll point out your ugly skin, your unkempt hair, any aspect of yourself that you dare leave open for him to see. He'll see it, take it, rip it to very shreds before your ugly eyes, that stare so earnestly, so fearfully, so fake, and sickening that he can't stand to look at you.

His venomous words turning into shouts, yelling at you, hands slamming down on his vanity, knocking over bottles, brushes and palettes of makeup, caring not that they shatter upon the ground and crack beneath his feet. How dare you flinch, like you're frightened, scared! Cowering away like the dog you are.

You knew what you'd be getting into, you knew that even he, the always perfect, always proper, always outstanding, elegant Vil Schoenheit gets angry. Going off like a fucking bomb that you happened to be to close too.

.

.

.

.

.

.

You knew what you were getting into....

So don't you dare look so afraid of them. Don't you dare act like the star in his play. His hands lay flat on his mattress, eyes wide and glazed over. He struggles—He does....

"Just get out."

His voice trembles—shakes and he doesn't dare move until you're out of his room, the door closing behind you, sinking into his knees, manicure nails digging into the sheets of his bed. A harsh, bitter laugh slipping past his lips, resting his face against his blankets, exhaustion seeping into his bones. In the end.... He wins, does he not...

He could tear your down, again and again. Yell and yell.

But you'll still love him. Even if he doesn't love you.

Tagging: @v-anrouge @peachblossomjelly @pinkskytwst + the rest of y'all Vil likers. Cause y'all made Leona Lose.

ⓒ 2023 cvlutos — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.

[cvlutos]

♰ LOVING FAULTS UPON SKIN —ROOK H. ♰

—tw: insecurity, room w/ freckles n' scars, open-ended

He sits straight and still, hands tucked tightly into his lap, and green eyes staring deep into the mirror. His freshly ironed white shirt discarded, tossed somewhere in his quiet bedroom. A room that seems almost suffocating and far too small—almost as if he was trapped. He's reminded of why he spends so little time in his room.

With his brown hat hanging off the pristine wooden coat rack, one that Vil had bought, realizing the lengths the huntsman would go to make sure his hat wasn't damaged. That his subtle protection was ruined in any mannor. The Vice Housewarden lets out a low exhale, trying to calm his beating heart, that seemed to beat far too fast, and far too filled to the point he felt out of control—lost to the whims of his own human nature.

He feels vulnerable.

As if he was the prey and not the hunter, at the mercy of your hands and lips as your sit behind him. Unbothered by his silence, unaffected by his stuff shoulders and solid back, that you're sure aches from his rigid posture. Yet you say nothing.

Your fingers grazing across his skin, feeling his muscles tense beneath your touch. Eyes taking in every shape and curve, ever dip, before his back flattens out.

They're sprinkled across his back, freckles small and large, like endless stars. And he leaves you to draw constellations. Connecting each dot, drawing lines into his skin that seem to never fade. Freckles that in their own right... Perfect, yet to him, they don't fit right. Not to say that he hates them, they're charming, until you stare, and beauty can change in a matter of seconds.

You find him beautiful.

You whisper it into his skin, leaving a trail of gentle honest kisses behind each and every constellation. Unbothered by the small scars that mark along his waist and arms, the scars that decorate his hands and chest. You love them and each story that follows. Scars that he's so used to seeing, scars that'll never heal, but fade with time. Though time never seems to come fast enough.

Resting your cheek against the center most of his back, your arms wrapping around his waist, and your hands slowly picking up his, entwining them effortlessly as your sit behind him. Listening to the silent ticking of his bedroom clock, basking in the slow moments of time's rule.

He finds himself speechless. Silenced by so many emotions that on cannot possibly at once understand and decipher. Sadness. Yearning. Confusion. Regret. Jealousy. Fear. Anger. Love. A feeling he understands so well, yet when faced with it, he's conflicted.

How can one make use of such in one moment, in one mere minute?

You call his name, washing away all uncertainty, all confusion, all feels that overwhelmed him. You calm him. And his lips—once pull into a line—tight and unmoving. Relax. Sliding into his usual smile and there's a certain confidence—sureness to his smile as he brings your hands to his lips.

Tagging: @v-anrouge [cause I forgot I even had this, but based on your idea]

[cvlutos]

Riddle with a tongue piercing and he's been hiding from his mom. Sebek with a split tongue is cool but would it be naturally occurring or happened by accident? Because I don't see him getting it done on purpose?(unless he had a very short rebellious phase)

Prev Riddle w/ Tongue Piercing

Prev Sebek w/ Tongue Piercing - I mention how he got it.

Riddle having a tongue piercing, he's absolutely hiding from him mother for the longest time and I feel he'd do a rather good job, speaking with his tongue outta view, probably switching the piercing to look like his tongue or clear to draw less attention to it.

Honestly, she wouldn't know until on of her friends from her Tuesday Afternoon Tea Session, and her friend gossip about it. Riddle's mother is infuriated, if you're in the picture, she's automatically blaming you. Saying you brainwashed her son with your unruly behavior. She's also demanding Riddle takes it out before he gets an infection.

Depending if Riddle is brave enough to disobey his mother, he'll either listen and take the piercing out when he's around her and when he's not, he'll wear it. Or he'll simply discard the piercing altogether.

Or he will outright say he won't and I do feel Riddle's mother would be speechless, but she wouldn't disown him, cause that'll be embarrassing for her that she can't control her own son. If Riddle denies, she might try a few more times to persuade him to get rid of it, before slightly glaring at the peircing whenever she sees it. And if any of the ladies ask, Riddle's Mother will make it seem like her own idea, as a way of letting him express himself.

[cvlutos]

TW: SUGGESTIVE

"They say the heavens speak of your name in her endless, songful tongue. They say she believes in love so raw and pure that it aches. And oh, how you make me ache. And not in the sense of mindless yearning—but utter desperation. That I cannot stand the mere existence of clothing that keeps you separate from me. Such a shield that covers and protects, yet not from me. Never from me. Sentir tes ongles sur mon dos. Laisser derrière lui des baisers meurtriers. Te sentir t'accrocher à moi, oh si désespérément. Let me take you, all that you are now—please... Allow to to kiss and grovel at your very feet, for I need you. More than anything."

ROOK HUNT

[cvlutos]

"I want to do everything in my being to know this person, everything in my body to talk to them, to text them more, to hear their voice. I don't know if I love them, I don't know why I feel this way, just that I do. It aches knowing that possibly they don't like me, that possibly whatever I feel—like? love? yearn? desire? That they'll never feel that way. And as much as it hurts—I'll accept it. Simply cause being their friend comes foremost."

+ ANY OF UR FAVES

[cvlutos]

@shinmon-c you're the only one who'd appreciate this thought, but imagine you and Riddle sit right next to each other, and it's right after a test. Usually after any test, Riddle simply reads or works on other classwork, but this time, you're done when he's done and you're able to convince him to lay his head down on the table, resting his head on his arms as your mouth words to him, asking him to play a game.

Which he promptly ignores, sending the teacher a sneak peek to see if they're looking, and when they're not he's looking at you, shaking his head and mouthing no. Which you roll your eyes at, taking his free hand and thumb wrestling beneath the table, by yourself, and after some coaxing and you annoying him, he's fighting you back silently.

I also like to think that after a few minutes, the teacher would clear their throat and Riddle would practically jump out his seat in fear of being caught, banging his knee against the roof of the table, which would definitely make your hold back a laugh as he's mumbling apologizes. Clearly embarrassed.

[cvlutos]

I bet Leona Kingscholar would dream about you often. The types of dreams that feel so real, that he'd confuse it for an actual memory. That he'd be so certain that this was his reality, until he wakes up to a speck of sun in his face. Yet he can't be bothered, only rolling to his side still thinking of the lovely dream from before.

That he'll scold himself silently for think it was true, yet he commits the dream to memory. Determined to remember it. As he goes throughout his day, his thoughts constantly mulling over the dream, and Ruggie sometimes sees the tiniest smile stretch across his lips. Yet in a moment the smile is gone, yet Ruggie is certain that it's there.

I bet Leona Kingscholar is the type to smile at nothing, seeing the small things that remind him of you and it makes him happy. He's quick to catch himself, quick to ignore the object, yet it happens again and again.

At some point he'll become annoyed with the object for simply being an object and not actually you. He'll curse it for being such a reminder, yet he won't move it. Nor ignore it. Sparing a short second to stare.

I bet Leona Kingscholar loves cleaning your face. He won't do it often, but sometimes he likes seeing a few crumbs on your face, or some drink droplets. He'll tease you, calling you messy and clumsy, but for a moment you'll see his eyes soften as he uses his thumb to wipe the corner of your lips, that lingers. Or he'll toss a napkin in your face, pleased to hear your laugh or fake offended gasp.

For some undescribable reason. It makes Leona Kingscholar happy.

[cvlutos]

♡ V.S & R.H | DICK | SMUT [TW: SUB!MALE READER, SPITTING]

Vil wants you to feel beautiful while he sits impossibly close, the buttons of your shirt undone and sliding off your shoulders and arms, chest littered with dark love bites, Vil's pretty fingers forcing you to look at yourself, while Rook buries his face between your thighs, eyes rolling to the back of his skull everytime he chokes on your cock. He just loves the feeling. Loves the way your twitch and smear precum along the flat of his tongue. But he also loves looking up, half-lidded green eyes staring into yours, while Vil places a string of lovely kisses along your neck, often times grasping Rook by the hair, forcing a muffled groan from his throat, forcing the huntsman to still his ministrations for you to answer the actor's questions.

'Do you like it?'

'Is he going deep enough?'

'No. I can't understand your mumbling, you have to speak clearly.'

Each words sending shivers down your spine, and if you answer oh so correctly, he pull Rook off your dripping cock and graciously spit a gob of saliva, letting Rook eagerly replace hot mouth along your length. Loving the ache in his knees, and the sting of Vil's nails, muffling incoherent french words, words that Vil to whisper into your ear, mocking—teasing...

'Permettez-moi de vous goûter...' Allow me to taste you...

'Pour te faire sentir si bien...' To make you feel so good...

'S'il te plaît...' Please....

When you cum for a moment it surprises them both, eyes wide as you stutter on your breath, spurts of your thick seed painting Rook's face and tongue, that he takes so greedily. To see you come undone, with Vil's careful movement, using a nearby towel to wipe Rook's face, whilst planting a chaste kiss to your cheek.

Oh how good you are to them.

[cvlutos]

Which twst guy would this be? I almost wanna say Idia but I almost don't want to either. Sebek? 👀

I LOVE YOU. CAUSE CAUSE. I COULDNT JUST NOT WRITE ABOUT IT. I ADDED LILIA CAUSE HE WOULD. SHAMELESSLY.

♡ I.S | SMUT SNIPPET [SUB!IDIA, DOM!GN!READER]

He slams his hands against your desk, clearly flustered and dazed, in the very empty classroom. His face is pink and his hair flickers, from blue slowly fading into pink. He struggles to speak, hands shaking and moving from the desk to your arms, gripping them lightly.

"...I-I—mm—i want to. Before I graduate—i want to do it... In a-in a classroom..." He fumbles his words desperately, stance growing more tense as he closes the distance between you both blindly.

"So—lewd—" His voice comes out as a high-pitch whine, sweet decorating his skin as he shakily holds your waist, struggling to keep his eyes open, tongue lolling out his mouth, saliva decorating his chin. His shirt lifted over his chest, nipples perky and blue from your constant pinching and pulling. "—i cant—" His words are incoherent, feeling you tighten as you ride him, feeling his cock twitch.

♡ S.Z | SMUT SNIPPET [ALMOST CAUGHT]

"Human!" He stands infront of your desk with a scowl, arms folded behind his back. He would've scared you, if he hadn't screamed at the other students to get out the moment class was over. Which raised a few suspicious brows, but most ignored him. He doesn't give you a chance to speak, before pulling out a small notebook he kept tucked in his pocket.

"I realized that there is much I haven't done before we graduate," he tries to remain calm, but you can see the tip of his ears turn pink, as he flips through the pages, before landing on the correct one. "Lilia said I should make the most before we leave—and we should..." He falters, face turning pink, "we should... do it in a classroom..."

"Im—" He chokes on his words, on hand holding himself, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist, forehead pressed against your back. Slowly rocking his hips, letting out a throaty groan, he curses under his breathe, hearing footsteps and voices outside the classroom, his hand sliding over your mouth, teeth digging into his bottom lip, hips snapping into yours, purposely forcing out a muffled moan.

♡ L.V | SMUT SNIPPET [PUBLIC, DOM!LILIA]

"Before we graduate, we should do it in a classroom."

He whispers in your ear, class still very much in session. Yet you're both located in the very back, with no other students beside you. His voice is hot and teasing, fingers teasing over the edges of your bottoms, fiddling with the buttons.

Your handwriting is shaky, trying to copy notes and keep a neutral face, has Lilia's fingers mess with you, teasing your most sensitive place, as he hums while you try and hold back a whine. Your freehand desperately grabbing his wrists, letting out a soft whimper, glancing at him with pleading eyes. He responds with a smile, winking as he pulls away, running his tongue over his fingers.

[cvlutos]

So it's established that Jamil is on the strong side, right? With how his unique magic isn't something just anyone would be able to do and how he's really smart but also smart enough to look average? (This could apply to other boys too but I'm in a Jamil mood)

I wanna see him fight for us. I wanna see us in danger, and we yell out Jamil's name, and he comes to our rescue, but its not just him rescuing us- it's him engulfed in fury and making sure your attackers never come near you again. Even better if it's someone who underestimates him. Maybe some Snooty tooty high up guys who visit NRC for something, and since Jamil is a model student he's one of the students to show them around. And those guys are the kind where they compliment him but also sneer at how he's only *average*. Backhanded compliments and such. And then they spot Us, and they're like "That person has no magic, what are they doing here?!" And if you're a girl, well, they'd have something to say about that too. They're not happy with your existence at NRC. So before they leave...it wouldn't hurt to do something about you, right? Like forcibly drag you away? Maybe hit you a few times or tie you up so you stop struggling? And you can't fight back so you yell out in desperation for the one who unknowingly knows your heart- Jamil. And -I dunno how *shrug*- he finds you, sees what's happening to you, and all restraint has left him as he pulls out his pen.

… it’s the weekend. I’m tryna not write rn. I’m trying to control myself. But you had to make it real difficult. I can’t stand you. /j

♡ J.V | FIGHT FOR ME | ANGST W/ FLUFF | [TW: VIOLENCE, BULLYING, BLOOD]

There’s only three of them. Three against one and each with magic, who are dead set on making you remember what.you.are. Magicless. It doesn’t matter if you know the fact, live by that simple inability in which makes you a forever outliner no matter where you go, where you exist. You will always be magicless, bottom of the barrel. Useless. You know this, you do. Yet you make amends elsewhere. You do. You really try.

It hurts.

His broad fist slamming into your nose, while another kick your legs from out under you. While a third take a photo. They laugh, a laugh that mixes in with the ringing of your ears and the pounding of your skull. You feel your body collide with the ground, and they laugh again. As if a record on repeat, they want you to know how pathetic you are. You can hear the click of their camera, their snickers and words that don’t quite reach your ears.

“You aren’t supposed to disappear. Youre still on NRC grounds—What are you,” You struggle to see past their large bodies, yet ypu know his voice. His tired and annoyed voice that stop short. As if fully taking in the scene before him, the others taunt, laughing, saying how they couldn’t care less about ‘NRC stupid rules’. Especially since they let you in. You struggle to sit, to open your mouth to simply catch his gaze. And you do, charcoal grey to yours.

It hurts.

To see his knee slammed in the first students face, fingers interlocked and wrapped around the jerk’s huge head. It happened within a second, for the vice warden to spring from the ground, as if it was mere second nature to bring such a towering body down easily. Yet the look upon his face was neutral, as if his very expression was craved from dark stone, while his eyes, filled with such rage inwhich it sent a shiver down your own spine. He wouldn’t hurt you, as he falls with lands and with a simple step is already on the second one, sending a punch to the face, you swear you could hear a bone crack, before he could even utter a word.

He feels like the wind, the blows past on a hot day, warming your face, forcing you to focus solely on it more than whatever cause such heat. It should burn… yet, your ignore the ache and turn your body. It all happened so fast, with all three bodies littered on the ground. While Jamil stands victorious. Breathing deeply through his nose, shoulders tense, and hands clenched.

Yet when he looks at you, there isn’t any anger, only worry. Fear. Regret.

As if whatever you saw before was merely a fragment. Yet as he kneels before you, face pulling into a frown as he pulls a bundle of napkins and tissues, most definitely in case Kalim needed them, from his pocket he whips the blood from your nose. Sitting in the silence. He’s a soft breeze, barely unnoticeable unless you stop for a moment. “I was worried when you disappeared like that…” He pauses, as if it just dawned on him what truly happened. You got hurt. You really did.

“If anything—and I mean anything happens like that again. Call my name. Call it. Shout it. Scream. Cry,” there’s unwavering loyalty in his words, “and I will fight for you.”

Always.

[cvlutos]

TW: ANGST & DISCOMFORT

"You truly are an eyesore. So plain. So boring. If it weren't for your obnoxious voice, I wouldve forgotten that you were here. Completely forgot. That reminds me, why are you still here? With no true purpose—You're simply wasting space. I think it's best you go. Vanish into the crowd like you always do. I truly doubt that within a few minutes, I'd even remember you were here."

VIL SCHOENHEIT, DIVUS CREWEL, JADE LEECH + UR FAVES

[cvlutos]

I really think we need another round of Riddle with a tongue piercing. Yes?

HSHWJWKQKQKWJEUWKQJWJWJWJWJ

My mind was going 100mph so this isn’t all in order or whatever. It might not make sense

♡ R.R. | TONGUE PIERCING | SUGGESTIVE 

Imagine Riddle just holding your face, knees digging into your mattress, pupils blown and eyes half lidded. It was supposed to be a short kiss, a brief hello, before you both began studying. Yet you were just so inviting. One kiss turned into two. Two into three. Three turned into pure desperation, unable to keep his hands away. His tongue piercing grazes along your tongue, occasionally clinking against your teeth, each time sending a shock of electricity down Riddle’s spine, a muffled whimper leaving his throat.

On most days he avoids it, keeping his tongue heavy in his mouth, seldomly licking your bottom lip, nipping at your flesh through heated kisses. Saliva connects your lips as you pull away for hair, Riddle face strawberry red, his chest heaving, lips agape, showing his shiny red tongue piercing. He mumbles under his breath, it’s not enough— his hands tugging at his collar, sliding his jack and vest from his arm, uncaring for how ungraceful his movements are. He needs to feel you. He needs to. His lips reconnecting with yours, hands moving to tug on your clothing, hips grinding against you. His hands are warm against your bare skin, thumbs dragging along your naval and upward, leaving behind a trail of tingles.

“I want—” he speaks between kisses. Pressing a short kiss to the corner of your lips, to your cheek, your jaw, teeth nipping at your neck. It’s so out of character, from his usual rigid movements, for him to move so freely, so unapologetically. Taking all he can without remorse. It’s exhilarating.

[fade to black]

[cvlutos]

TW: MOCKING & REJECTION

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

You hold out the candy with a smile, having spent days on finding the perfect one to fit his personality and taste. Doing research amongst his friends to find the absolutely perfect treat, to merely hint at your affections for him. He barely spares you a glance, focused more on whatever task he was doing.

“You know I don’t like you, right,” It wasn’t a question. A statement to make sure that you truly understood, and upon seeing your confused and distraught face, he lets out a low annoyed sigh, turning fully to you. Like a mother having to pull her child away and scold them for thinking that whatever they did was okay. Yet there’s no love, to apologetic undertones, nothing.

“I do not like you. Listen, I don’t know what gave you that impression, but no.” He turns back to his task, leaving you to merely stand there, shocked and silenced. You step away, turning from the man that just shattered your heart before a soft ‘wait’ makes you glance back with a glimmer of hope. He’s not looking at you, but there’s a bit of humor in his tone.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

VIL SCHOENHEIT, LEONA KINGSCHOLAR, AZUL ASHENGROTTO, JAMIL VIPER, JADE LEECH, JACK HOWL, IDIA SHROUD, & MALLEUS DRACONIA