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solxamber · 5 months ago

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You Try to Sleep on the Couch after an Argument with: Housewardens

Other Parts: Vice-Housewardens; First Years ; Cater, Floyd, Silver, Rollo

Riddle Rosehearts

The house was quiet, save for the occasional creak of wood and the rustle of fabric as you flopped onto the couch with all the grace of a cat forcibly denied its favorite sunny spot.

The argument still hung in the air, an unspoken tension that neither you nor Riddle were willing to breach—at least not yet. He wasn’t wrong, not entirely, but he wasn’t right either. The impasse was as thick as the silence between you.

Determined to make a statement, you yanked the blanket off the couch arm and cocooned yourself in it, defiantly turning your back to the door. No way were you crawling back to bed tonight. Your pride wouldn’t let you. Let him stew in his perfectly fluffed, oversized bed.

Meanwhile, in his room, Riddle’s impeccable composure was fraying at the edges. He lay stiff as a board under his duvet, staring at the ceiling like it held the answers to all his mistakes. His pillows seemed unusually hard, the blankets too suffocating, and no matter how he adjusted, something felt... wrong.

It didn’t take him long to figure out the culprit: you weren’t there.

He groaned softly into the darkness. Guilt clawed at his insides, sharp and relentless, each tick of the clock making it harder to bear. He’d handled things poorly—he could admit that, now that the heat of the argument had ebbed. And worse, he couldn’t bear the thought of you being upset, out there on the couch, all because of his stubbornness.

With a heavy sigh and an even heavier heart, he threw off his blanket and shuffled into the living room. His breath caught when he saw you.

There you were, fast asleep, your cheek smushed against the arm of the couch, one arm dangling off the side. The sight was far too adorable for the emotional train wreck he’d become. His guilt doubled.

Riddle knelt by the couch quietly, determined not to wake you. But as he crouched there, the exhaustion hit him—of the argument, the guilt, the restless tossing and turning. Maybe just sitting here would suffice. He wouldn’t disturb you.

A few minutes turned into an hour. Before he knew it, he’d slumped sideways against the couch, head lolling onto his arms, fast asleep in what had to be the most uncomfortable position imaginable.

When you stirred awake, the morning light was peeking through the curtains. Groggily, you rubbed your eyes, the previous night’s anger feeling like a distant shadow. That was when you noticed him—his normally pristine figure curled up on the floor, head resting uncomfortably close to your dangling hand.

Your chest ached at the sight. The idiot. The sweet, guilty idiot.

You reached out, brushing your fingers lightly against his hair. “Riddle,” you whispered. “Hey… wake up.”

He stirred, blinking up at you with sleep-clouded eyes, disoriented but instantly softening when he saw your face. Without a word, he shifted closer, arms wrapping around your middle as he buried his face against your stomach.

“Don’t go,” he mumbles, voice thick and quiet.

You freeze but quickly recover, leaning into his embrace. “I wasn’t going anywhere.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, voice muffled by your blanket. “I didn’t mean for it to get so out of hand.”

Your throat tightened, and you found yourself carding your fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry too,” you whispered. “Let’s not fight like that again.”

For a moment, the two of you just stayed like that, wrapped up in quiet forgiveness. When he finally looked up at you, there was a hesitant, hopeful smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Will you come back to bed now?” he asked softly.

“Only if you promise to use it too. No more couch-floor accommodations,” you teased, pinching his cheek lightly.

“Deal,” he murmured, and together, you made your way back—closer than before, warmth filling the space where anger once was.

Leona Kingscholar

The argument had been sharp, biting, and the kind of fight where you both refused to back down. Storming out of the bedroom felt dramatic enough to match the vibe, so you grabbed a blanket, stomped to the living room, and threw yourself onto the couch with the weight of your indignation. “Fine,” you muttered into the cushions. “Let him have the stupid bed. I don’t care.”

And at the time, you didn't. You were replaying his snarky remarks and cursing his stubborn attitude. But the couch was lumpy, the blanket too short, and sleep came grudgingly after what felt like hours of stewing.

When you finally woke, disoriented and achy, something felt...off. For starters, you weren’t on the couch anymore. You were in the bed, wrapped snugly in the comforter that still carried Leona’s scent.

Blinking against the sunlight, you sat up, confusion clouding your thoughts. At the foot of the bed was the blanket you’d dragged out last night, now neatly folded like some taunting symbol of Leona’s existence.

And Leona himself? Missing.

You slid out of bed and wandered to the living room, where the answer to your mystery lay sprawled across the couch. The sight of him, however, made your irritation waver.

Leona was far too large for the couch. His long legs hung over the edge at weird angles, and one arm was slung over his face to block the light filtering through the curtains. He looked wildly uncomfortable, but his usual arrogance softened in sleep, his face peaceful and unguarded.

It didn’t take a genius to piece it together. He must have carried you to bed sometime in the night, only to exile himself to the lumpy couch. The guy could be maddeningly stubborn, but this... this unexpected gesture had you torn between wanting to yell at him or simply kissing him awake.

Ultimately, you decided to settle for the middle ground.

Crouching next to the couch, you reached out and brushed the stray strands of hair from his face. Before you could withdraw, one eye cracked open, and a lazy grin spread across his lips.

“Caught ya,” he drawled, voice rough from sleep.

You raised an eyebrow. “You moved me to the bed, didn’t you?”

He huffed, clearly uninterested in owning up to the sentimentality of it. “Couldn’t leave you out there whining in your sleep.”

“I wasn’t whining!” you protested, even though your cheeks were burning.

“Sure you weren’t,” he replied smoothly, grabbing your wrist before you could retreat. With a sharp tug, he pulled you down, practically pinning you against him. “Don’t see the big deal. You’re mine, aren’t ya? ‘Course I’m gonna take care of you.”

The casual way he said it didn’t make it any less sincere.

You sighed, melting into his warmth despite yourself. “I hate how sweet you can be when I’m trying to stay mad at you.”

His smirk widened, and he tucked you closer, burying his face in your hair. “Didn’t mean to piss you off,” he murmured against your temple. “But you’re not leaving this couch till we make up. Deal?”

You rolled your eyes, but your voice softened. “Deal.”

As the tension melted away and his arms tightened around you, the couch didn’t seem quite so lumpy anymore. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad place to be.

Azul Ashengrotto

The argument had been tense, the kind where you both said things you probably shouldn’t have. Frustrated and too stubborn to stay in the same space as Azul, you grabbed a pillow and marched out to the couch. He’d barely tried to stop you, his pride seemingly keeping him rooted in the bedroom.

But pride was a fickle thing, and now you were left trying to fall asleep on the stiff cushions. Every creak of the floorboards made you feel a little guilty, knowing exactly who it was.

You didn’t even need to look; you could feel Azul’s presence lingering in the doorway, his usual composure clearly absent. The sound of shuffling footsteps returned to the bedroom, and you thought maybe he’d finally leave you alone—only to hear those same footsteps inch closer again a minute later.

"Azul, I know you're there," you muttered, cracking an eye open and turning toward the doorway. Sure enough, there he was, peeking out. His glasses caught the faint glow of the hallway light, and he immediately froze like he’d been caught stealing treasure.

“I-I wasn’t...” he started, before trailing off, clearly scrambling for an excuse.

You sighed and sat up, your frustration ebbing in the face of how uncharacteristically sheepish he looked. This was Azul Ashengrotto, the calculating businessman who could sell ice to Yetis—and yet he couldn’t even apologize without peering at you like a child who’d been scolded.

“If you’re just going to lurk there all night, we’re both going to lose sleep,” you said, finally beckoning him over with a wave.

Azul hesitated for a fraction of a second before his composure cracked, and he shuffled toward the couch. “I didn’t mean for things to escalate...” he started, sitting next to you, his head ducked low, voice soft.

You smirked despite yourself. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed, you know that?”

He bristled, his dignity rallying as he cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. “I am not—”

“You’re very cute,” you interrupted, and the smallest flicker of a pout crossed his lips.

Azul looked away, a hint of color dusting his pale cheeks. “You’re the worst.”

“And you still love me,” you countered, pulling him down beside you. “Truce?”

He glanced at you, the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips. “Truce.”

Apologies came in murmured exchanges after that, both of you acknowledging where you’d gone wrong. You knew you’d both let pride get in the way—typical for two people as headstrong as yourselves.

Eventually, Azul’s head rested on your shoulder, his warm weight grounding you. You leaned back against the couch, and despite its discomfort, it felt perfect with him there.

“You know,” you whispered, running a hand gently through his hair, “for a guy who’s made half of Twisted Wonderland sign contracts, you really can’t stand your ground for the life of you.”

Azul huffed, turning his face into your shoulder to hide. “Do you want me to apologize again?”

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Nope. I think I’ll just enjoy this.”

And with that, the two of you finally let the tension of the argument melt away, falling asleep together on the couch in an imperfect, perfectly “you and Azul” sort of peace.

Kalim Al-Asim

The argument had been uncharacteristically heated—rare for someone as sunny and easygoing as Kalim—but even he had limits, and so did you. When your stubborn streak flared, it ended with you grabbing a blanket and storming off to the couch.

“No, Kalim, I’m fine. You sleep in the bed, I’ll sleep here,” you snapped, cutting off his attempts to follow you. His face fell, but for once, he didn’t argue, retreating to the bedroom with a defeated slump of his shoulders.

You burrowed into the couch cushions, determined to stay mad, but as sleep started to claim you, the anger dulled into annoyance. It didn’t matter. He started it, you thought stubbornly, clutching the blanket tighter.

A soft rustle of fabric woke you, tugging you from the edges of sleep. Blinking groggily, you turned your head to see Kalim crouched beside the couch, carefully tucking another blanket over you. He had his tongue poking out slightly in concentration, his touch so gentle that it was clear he didn’t want to wake you.

“What are you doing?” you mumbled, voice hoarse with sleep.

Kalim flinched, looking at you like a startled puppy caught raiding the kitchen. “Oh, I—uh—I just thought you might be cold, so I…”

He trailed off, clearly expecting you to brush him off again. Instead, you sighed, your irritation melting as you realized just how ridiculous he looked, trying to coddle you even while you were angry at him.

“Come here,” you said, sitting up and pulling the blanket back a bit.

“What? No, I don’t want to—”

“Kalim.”

His protest crumbled immediately, and he slid onto the couch beside you, tucking his legs up awkwardly. You wrapped the blanket over both of you, and after a moment of stunned hesitation, Kalim relaxed into the embrace, resting his head against your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice small and earnest. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

You sighed, tilting your head to rest on his. “I’m sorry too. I overreacted.”

He perked up slightly at that, his usual cheer trying to peek through. “So… does this mean you won’t sleep out here alone again?”

“You’re lucky I’m even letting you under this blanket, Asim,” you teased, though your smile softened the words.

Kalim beamed, his arms wrapping snugly around your middle. “I knew you couldn’t stay mad at me forever!”

You rolled your eyes fondly, leaning back into the cushions. The couch wasn’t exactly built for two people, but the warmth of his presence made it easy to ignore. Slowly, you both drifted to sleep, Kalim murmuring sweet nothings even as his breaths evened out.

Maybe next time, you thought sleepily, you’d just let him win.

“You can have your perfectly fluffed pillows and skincare routine in peace,” you muttered, tucking yourself in with a spiteful sense of triumph.

Vil Schoenheit

The argument left both of you simmering in silence, which for Vil was a rarity. Instead of his usual icy composure, he seemed genuinely rattled. You, however, weren’t in the mood to care. Grabbing a blanket with theatrical flair, you stomped to the couch.

Once comfortably cocooned, you scrolled on your phone, trying to drown out the lingering annoyance. That’s when you heard it—sharp, purposeful footsteps marching toward you.

Before you could react, Vil appeared like a vengeful storm god, looking every bit as flawless as a deity would while furious. With a huff that could make kingdoms tremble, he reached for your arm and began dragging you back to the bedroom.

“Vil, what are you—let me go! I’m fine out here!” you protested, but his grip was firm, his annoyance palpable.

Once you were unceremoniously deposited by the bed, he turned to you, pointing at your neatly made side. “You are sleeping there,” he declared.

You folded your arms. “I’m sleeping on the couch. Deal with it.”

He tilted his head, his expression a dangerous blend of frustration and disbelief. “Absolutely not. You’ve ruined my entire evening, and now you expect me to suffer further by sleeping alone?”

“Ruined? Seriously?” you shot back.

“Yes! I require my beauty sleep, and I can’t possibly get it knowing you’re out there, sulking on a couch. It’s impossible to relax without you next to me—so you, are going to have to take responsibility!”

The sheer audacity of his statement left you blinking. It was so dramatic and entirely Vil that you couldn’t help it—you laughed. Not a little chuckle, but a full-bodied, slightly wheezing laugh that made you clutch your sides.

Vil crossed his arms, arching an offended brow. “I fail to see what’s funny.”

“You,” you said between giggles. “This whole ‘it’s your fault I can’t sleep because I love you’ nonsense. You’re ridiculous.”

He didn’t deny it. Instead, he sighed, and once your laughter subsided, he gestured to the bed again, this time more softly. “Please. Don’t make me sleep without you.”

You relented, sliding under the blankets. As you settled in, Vil switched off the lights, the room going still.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly after a moment. His tone was sincere, lacking the sharp edges from earlier.

You shifted closer to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him gently against you. “I’m sorry too.”

Vil let out a contented hum, nestling into your hold. With your body heat mingling and the earlier tension dissipating, it didn’t take long for both of you to fall asleep—together, as it should be.

Sleep came in patches, your mind replaying the fight in a loop. At some point, the dull ache in your bladder forced you to stumble toward the bathroom. On your way back, you froze, hearing quiet, panicked murmurs drifting from Idia’s room.

Idia Shroud

The argument had been rough—sharp words, bitter edges, the kind of fight that left your chest heavy. It didn’t matter how much Idia stammered his way through an apology or tried to explain his side; you weren’t ready to hear it yet. So, in an act of frustrated finality, you grabbed a blanket and retreated to the couch, refusing to spare him another glance.

“Ortho, what do I do? I think I really messed up this time,” his voice wavered, thick with worry. “They probably hate me now. Like, actual hate—no respawn, no restart. I mean, who else would put up with me? I’ve completely blown it.”

You sighed, anger ebbing as guilt trickled in. You hadn’t meant to push him that far, and his usual self-deprecating spiral sounded more frayed than usual.

Pushing the door open, you caught the tail end of Ortho’s voice. “Big Brother, you should—oh!” His robotic eyes darted to you, scanning the scene. A moment later, he gave a tiny thumbs-up and practically zoomed out of the room, leaving you and Idia alone.

Idia froze when he noticed you. His shoulders hunched as if he could shrink his already wiry frame. “I-I didn’t mean for you to hear that. Sorry for being pathetic. Again.”

Rolling your eyes fondly, you stepped forward and opened your arms. “Come here, you dramatic dork.”

His eyes widened, hesitation etched into every inch of his posture. When you didn’t move or drop your arms, he finally shuffled over, nervously slipping into your embrace. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him securely, and his entire body seemed to deflate as tension drained out of him.

“I thought you weren’t coming back,” he admitted, voice muffled against your shoulder.

You huffed softly, rubbing his back. “Idia, I wasn’t leaving. Just... needed space to cool off. And honestly, hearing you lose your mind over it made it hard to stay mad.”

“Cool. Cool, cool, cool,” he mumbled, the words tumbling in an embarrassed rush. “Um, does this mean...?”

“It means I still love you,” you interrupted gently.

His grip on you tightened for a moment before he pulled back, pink dusting his cheeks and his hair glowing pink at the ends. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice so soft you almost missed it.

“I’m sorry too,” you replied, kissing his cheek and earning a startled squeak.

Together, you made your way back to bed. As you settled under the blankets, his fingers tangled hesitantly with yours. The argument seemed miles away now, replaced by the steady warmth of simply being with him.

“I’ll try to be better,” he murmured into the quiet.

“You’re already enough, Idia,” you replied, squeezing his hand.

And as you drifted off to sleep, you felt his thumb rubbing gentle circles against your knuckles, grounding both of you in the quiet comfort of reconciliation.

Malleus stood frozen for a moment, processing your declaration, and you could feel his pout even with your back turned. "You do not need to sleep on the couch," he finally said.

Malleus Draconia

The argument left both of you tense, and you were too mad to deal with Malleus' brooding silence. Grabbing a blanket, you stormed off toward the couch, refusing to even glance at him. "I'm sleeping on the couch," you announced. "Goodnight."

"I'm not changing my mind," you shot back, tossing the blanket onto the couch for emphasis.

There was a brief, sulking pause. Then, he went quiet—suspiciously quiet. You peeked over your shoulder just in time to catch him crossing his arms with a look of smug triumph spreading across his face.

“Malleus—”

Before you could finish the thought, a flash of green lightning struck the couch, reducing it to a pile of ash with alarming precision. You stood there, jaw dropping as the faint smell of charred upholstery wafted in the air.

"Well," Malleus said, ever so matter-of-factly, "it seems the couch is… out of commission. A most unfortunate turn of events."

You turned to him, dumbfounded. "Did you seriously just smite your own couch?"

He looked at you expectantly, his lips pressed into an overly calm smile. "The bed is still available," he offered, gesturing toward the bedroom as though that solved everything.

Your anger reignited—if that was even possible after witnessing such sheer audacity. Without a word, you dropped your blanket onto the floor, flopping down dramatically as if making it your personal mission to out-stubborn a dragon fae.

He stared at you in bewilderment, clearly expecting a different outcome. For a long moment, he didn’t move, as though trying to process your act of defiance. Then, with an audible sigh, he finally caved.

“Alright,” he said softly, crouching to your level. His eyes held a rare vulnerability. “I… overreacted. I apologize for upsetting you.”

You bit back a smirk, pretending to be unimpressed even as you felt your resolve softening. "I wasn’t thrilled about it, yeah."

Malleus tilted his head, something of a pout returning to his expression. “Will you come back to bed, then? The floor hardly befits someone so precious to me.”

“Only if you promise not to zap anything else," you teased, finally relenting as you reached out to take his offered hand.

He helped you up gently, his grip firm but careful, as though he feared breaking you. “I cannot promise to never act rashly in defense of my love,” he murmured, leading you back to the room.

Settling into the bed together, you couldn’t resist poking at him one last time. “You really destroyed your own couch just to keep me near you, huh? You know they make couple’s therapy for this, right?”

He chuckled softly, pulling you close. “I would smite an entire castle if it meant you stayed by my side.”

“Noted,” you said, rolling your eyes, though you couldn’t hide the warmth in your chest. As you both drifted off, tangled in the sheets, you couldn’t help but think how absurdly lucky you were to be loved by someone so dramatic—and so utterly devoted.

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telephoniii · 5 months ago

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REALLY…HIM?

☆彡 in which professor trein judges your relationship with the NRC boys

NRC boys x Reader (minus Ortho)

Word Counter: 3K

Warnings: Reader is Prefect, Trein is your father figure, established relationship, possible OOC

A/N: life’s getting pretty hectic so i’m sorry if my upload schedule slows down. i hope you enjoy :>

ace trappola

Can’t say he’s surprised, just disappointed. It makes sense; he was one of your first friends. However, that doesn’t make him any less troublesome. Despite being a first-year, Ace is one of the biggest slackers and troublemakers on campus— much to Trein’s dismay. His main worry is that Ace will poorly influence you. He’s already seeing it with the two of you getting a crazy amount of detentions and scoldings for unthinkable reasons. You’ve got it rough already being from another world, you don’t need a devil on your shoulder convincing you to get into all kinds of trouble. It’s a real shame said devil is your boyfriend. He’ll allow the relationship and all will seem swell. Little do you know that he pulled Ace aside and had a long chat.

deuce spade

A fine pick; Trein is neither severely impressed nor disappointed. He doesn’t think Deuce is too bad, but he believes you could do better. Deuce will need to somehow prove himself to Trein. On the outside, Trein looks like he absolutely hates his guts. His eyes are always staring at Deuce with this sharp look and it gets the card soldier real nervous real fast. In reality, it’s just Trein keeping a closer eye on him + his RBF. He’s relatively neutral on the first year, yet Deuce is fully convinced that his professor wants to set him on fire.

cater diamond

Trein is very annoyed with your choice. He doesn’t like Cater’s social media addiction and would much rather have you hit the books than scrolling through Magicam. Not to mention, he feels as though something about Cater’s happy-go-lucky attitude is a facade, and doesn’t trust him around you. Cater finds Trein scary, but he’s not as intimidated as Deuce. As he does with Ace, Trein takes Cater to have a talk, and—surprisingly— his opinions on the third year improve. He doesn’t fully like him, but he’ll tolerate Cater more so than beforehand. Cater also offers to help Trein make a social media account; it’s cute yet chaotic all the same watching them bond.

trey clover

Before Trein can form a solid thought on Trey, the vice housewarden is subtly trying to win his favor. Trey knows how about his father-like connection to you and immediately shapes up. He gifts Trein different pastries and learns which ones he’s partial to. What really wins the professor over is when Trey starts volunteering to help clean his classroom after class. Trein won’t even know the two of you are already together and he’ll make comments around you like, “That Clover boy is real nice…” Needless to say, Trein approves of Trey long before he finds out you both are in a relationship.

riddle rosehearts

Trein immediately scowls when he hears the news of your relationship. You’d think he’d approve due to Riddle’s intellect and dutiful behavior. Admittedly, Trein does like that about Riddle. But he despises the boy’s bursts of anger, finding them childish and unfitting for a future mage. He’s seen the housewarden go berserk on one too many students and doesn’t trust he won’t do the same to you. Trein doesn’t want you walking on eggshells around your own partner. This is another one who’ll have to prove themselves to Trein. Riddle will be upset when he hears of Trein’s low opinion of him, but gets a surge of motivation to convince him otherwise. You’ll find Riddle working even harder on his studies than before you didn’t even think that was possible in hopes of gaining Trein’s favor. He’ll eventually get it. I imagine that Riddle does some small, heroic deed for you that really shows his love, and Trein just so happens to be passing by and sees it. Once your unofficial official father in Twisted Wonderland gets along with Riddle, expect to be nagged about missing assignments and homework a WHOLE LOT.

jack howl

Similar to Trey, he immediately knows about your bond with Trein. Instead of trying to win over the professor, Jack takes a more blunt approach. He goes straight to his desk after class and tells him about your relationship, being upfront about his feelings towards you. Trein respects it. He thinks that Jack has more guts than most on campus and trusts him to protect you. He’s quite supportive of the relationship, acting as a mentor for the both of you. You can catch him watching the two of you with a tiny smile, murmuring something along the lines of, “Young love.” The two of you remind him of his own marriage with his late wife. It makes him sentimental in a way.

ruggie bucchi

A BIG 180 FROM JACK. Trein thinks this guy is sleazy. Ruggie couldn’t care less in the beginning, finding it funny to practically hang off your shoulder while Trein stared daggers into him. Then it started to seep in that it may or may not be important to get Trein’s approval for a long-term relationship with you. That’s when he gets his act together and completely starts sucking up to Trein. He’ll help out with paperwork, errands, cleaning up, etc! All for free! much to his dismay All Ruggie asks for in return is Trein’s support for your relationship. He catches Trein by surprise with how well his work ethic is. The lengths the hyena goes to for you ends up leaving the professor impressed.

leona kingscholar

Professor Trein is both surprised and disappointed. Now how did this happen? He didn't think Kingscholar was capable of being nice to anyone, let alone get into a whole relationship. Well, he bugs you to tell your boyfriend to start showing up to class. He’s not exactly happy with you dating a huge slacker like him, but Trein knows that Leona is a smart boy. Brash and not his first pick, sure, but he wouldn’t play with your heart or rope you into anything stupid. He trusts Kingscholar to protect you. But if he starts seeing you begin to skip class— which is going to happen, Leona’s going to make you do it at least once— he’ll pull YOU aside and give you an earful. Tough love, unfortunately.

floyd leech

Hell no. All the red blaring flags. Now why would you go and do that? Really? Out of EVERYONE? You bet your bottoms Trein is actively speaking out against your relationship every single time he sees you. He doesn't even want to try to talk to Floyd. Trein is convinced you are addicted to getting in trouble and lets out the biggest old man sigh. Is there any way Floyd can win the professor’s favor? Probably not. And if there was a way, would Floyd even do it? Big fat no. Floyd thinks it is hilarious that Professor Trein disapproves, upping his affections around him with that toothy grin of his. And if you guys have a class together that Trein teaches? Chaos. Expect a lot of paper balls to be thrown at you.

jade leech

“Are you okay??” Is the first thing Trein asks when you tell him you and Jade are in a relationship. Doesn't exactly trust the boy, but Jade tends to behave around him. The professor has always seen him being picture-perfect whenever he’s around which is 100% suspicious, but Trein doesn't have any solid reasons to disapprove. Jade, like his brother, finds the whole situation very amusing. He’s always figuring out new ways to appear like the ‘ideal boyfriend’ to Trein. If he ever talks to the professor he’ll slip in a comment like, “I never disappoint, trust me” and it makes Trein distrust him even more.

azul ashengrotto

Now what bet did you lose for this to have happened? At least Ashengrotto is a star student, you need to hang out around more of those in his opinion. After confirming that, “No, no bet was lost,” and “No, he’s not paying for my love,” Trein was pretty alright with it. The Monstro Lounge is a student-ran organization, it's clear from that the young boy is capable and responsible. He just keeps a very, very close eye on you two. The last thing Trein wants is for Azul to take advantage of you since— knowing him— he seems like the type to do so. Expect frequent questions of “How’s your relationship going?” and “He’s treating you right, right?” Azul is going to get asked to stay after class to talk. Trein then proceeds to threaten lecture him on how to properly treat your lover. He just wants to make sure you don't get wrapped up in one of those contracts he’s heard about. Azul has quite the track record.

kalim al asim

Automatically assumes you’re dating him for the money and begins to ramble about how you should marry for love. Tells you about his late wife and how much he loved her— it is so sweet I'm actually crying. That's the kind of love he wants you to have. You’ve got to reassure him that, “Yes, my certified father figure, I do love him very much and I’m not just in it for the money.” After that talk, he finds the relationship sweet but kind of concerning. Kalim is a nice boy but severely naive and, frankly, incompetent. Trein starts to go a little harder on Kalim in class, not that he was going easy anyway. He scrutinizes the essays he turns in and chastises him for missing an assignment. As he watches you kiss Kalim on the cheek after getting an A, Trein can only sigh and think, “He’s lucky he’s rich.”

jamil viper

Trein’s pretty okay with him. He’s a level-headed guy with passable grades and the title of a vice housewarden. However, the professor did hear about his Overblot and does think that there's more beneath the surface. He doesn't judge him for his Overblot, no. But Trein does keep a closer eye on him to make sure he isn't scheming anything involving you. The professor also tries to push him to do better academically. He’s heard from you about how smart Jamil truly is and can see his potential, so he tries to get him to stop holding back. Jamil is a little appreciative of it and respects Trein as your father figure, but still isn't a fan of sticking out. Nor does he plan on giving into Trein’s attempts.

epel felmier

Is fine with the relationship at first. He was polite, soft-spoken, and a part of Pomfiore. Most students belonging to that dorm are pompous, but respectful nonetheless. Then Epel’s true nature comes out and Trein is constantly reprimanding him for horseplay. It's kinda funny how surprised Trein is by Epel’s country toughness. The professor definitely had his suspicions— nobody at NRC is innocent, he’s learned every student here has some sort of dark side— but he definitely wouldn't have expected this. A part of Trein actually prefers him like this. You are dating someone with a backbone who will defend you. He encourages Epel to be himself around him, promising a judgment-free area. They get along pretty well surprisingly, with Trein being a sort of mentor to him. Overall, very sweet and Trein approves.

rook hunt

In the most blunt way possible, Trein tells you, “Your boyfriend weirds me out.” He thinks Rook is an oddball for sure. No way around it. Is half convinced Rook is stalking him. Because he is. When you explained to your boyfriend about the bond you had with Professor Trein, he got way too intrigued and ended up ‘watching’ Trein like he does to Leona. It's not until the professor makes a passing comment about being paranoid that he’s being watched that you realized, “Oh shit my boyfriends stalking you.” You don't say that to him— you don't want Rook getting in trouble. So you settle on having a really long talk with Rook about it who reassures you he’d never disturb your father figure or the absolutely beautiful bond between the two of you. He still worries you sometimes when he goes missing and randomly reappears by walking out of Trein’s classroom.

vil schoenheit

Trein worries that Vil won’t make the time for you. He’s aware that Schoenheit is a busy boy as he’s missed his class plentiful in the past. He’ll make Vil stay after class for a little to talk to him about it, giving him a fatherly warning about being ready to fully commit to a relationship and the time it takes to manage one. Vil is, admittedly, insulted that Trein doubts his ability to wholeheartedly love you but takes it in stride. He sees this as a sign to up his game in the romance department and properly does so, dedicating more time to pampering you. The professor expresses his concerns to his coworker, Crewel, who talks his ear off about how much of a “good pup” Vil is and that he won't disappoint. Trein can’t help but agree when he spots you walking into class looking more freshened with slight makeup on and a new hair-do that Vil definitely did for you.

idia shroud

Once you break the news to Trein, he immediately asks to meet with Idia one-on-one. The blue-haired student rarely shows up to class! And that iPad isn't going to cut it forever! He needs to be able to size him up in person. Idia, naturally, is scared to death. At first, he immediately declines, insisting that they don't really need to meet up, the whole idea is stupid, and it’ll be fine if he stays right there in his room. Then you sit down with him and tell him how important Trein is to you and… sigh You landed a natural 20 on the dice of persuasion. Idia can’t believe he's doing this. You’re beside him the whole time as he stutters in front of Trein. Is Trein impressed? No, not at all. Yet your confidence in the Shroud and constant praise is reassuring. The professor’s going to make you force Idia into showing up in person in class. His attendance rivals Leona's.

sebek zigvolt

Doesn't really care for Sebek despite the first year's desperate attempts at trying to impress him. Sebek lost him after he started talking about Malleus when Trein asked about you. Ever since then, it’s just been him trying to win him back to no prevail. Kinda sad to watch. He’ll be the biggest gentleman ever: rushing to doors to open them for Trein, scrubbing his whole classroom for him from top to bottom, and yelling at other students to be quiet— though he was pretty much doing that before you two even got together. But every time Sebek gets close to winning the professor’s favor, he ends up going on a tangent about how amazing his liege is, and we're back at square one. You’ve got to rub him on the back and kiss him on the cheek while telling him, “Trein will come around one day!” Even if that day never comes.

silver

Not a fan. He’s witnessed Silver fall asleep in his class one too many times and thinks it's disrespectful. Once you tell Silver, he’s upset as it's not exactly something he can change, but will put in extra effort not only in Trein’s class but in all his classes. He studies with you beside him so you can prevent him from falling asleep when you see him get all drowsy-eyed. Trein immediately takes note of Silver’s hard work and grit as the boy passes his class with flying colors while asking if there’s anything he could do to help him after hours. It's only when he hears from his fellow teachers that Silver has been doing exceptionally well is he actually impressed. Afterwards, Trein will start being more understanding of Silver’s constant sleeping. He won't be any less strict, but he won’t lay into him for it as hard as before since learning it's out of Silver’s control. Trein thinks rather positively of your relationship, comparing it to the ones in the fairytales.

lilia vanrouge

A bit disturbed, to say the least. Lilia is older than him after all. Trein tried to keep a close eye on the two of you, but Lilia always caught him and pursued a staring match. Trein was always the first to look away. Lilia finds it entertaining. He tries to play tiny tricks on the professor, but you stop him at the very last minute. You sit down and try to explain that you deeply care about Trein and, by extension, what Trein thinks of him. Lilia proceeded to suggest that he brings Trein some cookies to win him over to which you immediately say no. Honestly, I don’t see Trein really ever warming up to Lilia. He just pretends the old bat doesn't exist and isn't your boyfriend. Lilia finds that incredibly funny while you're dying inside.

malleus draconia

The fact you were able to get close to the Draconia is an impressive feat to Trein. However, future ruler of Briar Valley or not, he intends to make sure that Malleus treats you right. Right when you tell Malleus that Trein is basically your father, the fae goes straight to the professor, confesses to him about your relationship, and swears to take good care of you with this ominous tone. Trein isn’t very fond of Malleus at first, struggling to decipher whether or not that introduction was genuine. It isn't until you go to him after class, gushing about the late-night walk you went on with Malleus yesterday and shoving cute little polaroid photos in his face does Trein begin to trust the fae. He makes sure to scold you for not being asleep at that time, yes, but he stares at one of the photographs for way too long, imagining you and Malleus as him and his late wife for a moment. A small smile appears on his face. However, he can’t help but think that the two of you are down a similar path; the happiest marriage ever, kids, and one lover outliving the other. A tragedy, but he’ll let you enjoy it while it lasts just like he did. As long as you’re happy.

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 9 months ago

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GUYS… 💀

Skully J. “I greet you with a kiss” Graves

You wake up in his arms after blacking out

Calls you “my dear” and “lovely”/“wonderful” even though we literally just met

Comments that your names are beautiful

Offers to escort you (well, Trey technically) through the woods even though Skully has no idea where tf he’s going

Remarks that it would be nice to hold hands and stroll through the forest together

He tends to use the term "fated" to refer to things he has in common with others

Is the first character in all of Twst to have a BLUSHING face

He holds your hand and kisses you (on the back of it??) without even waiting or asking for your okay (avert your eyes, Grim…)????

HE ALSO KISSES GRIM AND ALL THE OTHER BOYS ON THE HAND

HE KISSES YUU MULTIPLE TIMES THROUGHOUT THIS EVENT

HE WALKED OUT OF a DAtinG SIM 😭

Other Skully facts:

He’s taller than Malleus (not including the horns, just judging by the models) and Sebek (stated explicitly in the dialogue)

He’s is a first year student

He’s 16, same age as the other first years (though Skully only recently turned 16)

Speaks very respectfully, even to fellow first years (Riddle remarks on Skully being very gentlemanly and even Vil calls Skully elegant)

He refers to himself using an archaic form of “I” (wagahai)

HE’S AN OTAKU FOR HALLOWEEN, he calls Jack Skellington “Jack Skellington-sama” and says Jack is the person he admires the most dbsksbsiqguzvs

Skully asks everyone else call him Jack-sama too

He comes from a small isolated fog-shrouded rural village; it is located at the bottom of a valley

His hometown considers Jack Skellington the founder of Halloween; Jack Skellington is not known outside of this village

The people in Skully’s hometown love Halloween and its founder, Jack

He seems to be sleep deprived???

Skully tries to tell others at his school about Halloween and Jack, but his peers don’t listen and get mad at him

Skully doesn’t like to talk about his school (and seems to actively dislike it, calling his classmates fools and asking to avoid the topic of school)

He self-admits to not having many people who understand him

Confirmed a mage (Leona says he has the same amount of magic as Epel), but he doesn’t have a magical pen/doesn't seem to know what they are???

He doesn't know Malleus either.

Skully claims he was also sucked into the book while attending the used book fair in Foothill Town

Chunibyo?? Like, he presents as mysterious initially but actually has very excitable reactions to things, lots of purple prose too

Leona calls him a BADGER

He calls his classmates “worthless” for not understanding/listening to him

He thinks lowly of those who disagree with his opinions on Halloween; there is a drastic shift in his personality when the NRC students express dissent

Skully’s ideal Halloween is solemn and desolate, involving: beating up all ghosts, painting rooms entirely black, no decorations, and no music

This is how his village spends Halloween, in solemn silence; Skully grew up thinking this is how it always is

He likes classical music and opera

He acts gentlemanly because he believes Jack is also a gentleman

He wants to learn piano someday

Skully believes that staying traditional and respecting and protecting the past is important

Details about his unique magic

(Side note: GRIM’S NEW oUTFIT 👌 He looks perfect in that suit!! LOOKS At HIS WIDDLE PAW gLOVES… And the chest fluff sticking out gives the illusion of a cravat! Aaaaaah, so cute 💕)

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moonlit-midnight · 1 month ago

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my beloved platonic yuu ships✨

#twst memes #twst #twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #ace trappola #deuce spade #malleyuu #aceyuu #deuceyuu #heartshackle #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus x reader #twst yuu #twst imagines #platonic ship #malleus x yuu #ace x yuu #deuce x yuu

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married-to-google-translater · 10 months ago

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Malleus who wants to know your name ↓

Mc who knows about folklore ↑

This will be the most intensive staring contest lol

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dior-luxury · 2 months ago

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HAVE TOU CONSIDERED. doing this kiss and make out prompt but flipped? i.e. THEY drag you into a closet/classroom to kiss kiss fall in love? I imagine for some chars. it would be the result of a bad day and for others just ‘cause!.

ANYWAYS. sorry if your requests are overloaded. just. an idea. <3 love your writing!!!! Ty for your service 🙏🙏

Kiss And Makeout *FLIPPED

( ✧ ) ────── boyfriend stories . fluff/romance - gn!reader .

- [𝐜𝐡.] leona . jade . floyd . vil . malleus . lilia

- [𝐩:𝐬] Intense kissing/makeout . Physical intimacy (non-explicit) . Sudden physical contact/grabbing . Slight unpredictability (Floyd being Floyd) . Mild dominance/control . Reader being pinned against a wall briefly . Slight possessiveness . Teasing/biting .

Note: Guys I know the tags are misleading into it being borderline 'smut' but I PROMISE it's just suggestive 🙏 . Also I kinda cooked with this one 😍

Leona Kingscholar

The sun’s slanting low across the Savannaclaw dorm courtyard, casting long shadows that stretch like sleepy lions. You're on your way to the library, arms full of notes for a shared class—when a familiar, rough hand loops around your wrist from behind.

"Oi," Leona drawls, already half-lidded, already smirking. “Ditch whatever you’re doing.”

Before you can argue—he’s pulling you along, not with urgency, but with that effortless kind of command only he seems to exude. You try to complain, maybe mention that you’ve got work to do, but his reply is a chuckle as dry and warm as the desert wind.

You end up in an unused classroom—somewhere tucked behind the alchemy wing, the door creaking faintly shut behind him as dust motes swirl in the light. The desks are all pushed to the back, stacked like towers of forgotten effort, and Leona leans against one, dragging you in with a lazy tug around your waist.

“You’ve been ignoring me,” he accuses, voice low and thick, like he’s half-asleep—but his golden green eyes are very, very awake.

"I was studying," you breathe, barely getting the words out before he pulls you in the rest of the way.

His mouth finds yours with that slow-burning hunger that always leaves your knees weak. He kisses like he fights—possessive, measured, and way too confident. His hand slides up your back, keeping you flush against him, as if he’s daring you to try pulling away. You can taste the heat of the afternoon sun still clinging to his skin, that wild-sand scent of him curling around your senses.

Leona kisses like it’s something he deserves. Like you’re a prize he’s claimed and won’t be returning. He pulls back only to speak against your lips.

"You smell like ink and stress. I'm fixing that."

The makeout drags on—longer than you should allow. One of your hands ends up tangled in his hair, the other fisted in the fabric of his uniform coat. He doesn’t stop until you’re breathless, dazed, lips tingling.

When he finally lets you go, he’s got that smug grin, even as his thumb brushes your lower lip. “There. Now you’ve got something better to think about than test scores.”

You try to glare at him, but your heart’s still beating way too loud in your ears.

And Leona? He just stretches and yawns like this was all part of his nap schedule.

Jade Leech

It starts off innocently enough. You’re helping Jade carry potion ingredients to one of the smaller prep rooms near Octavinelle—some obscure mushroom extracts and strange marine flora with names you can't even pronounce. The corridor is damp and quiet, the kind of silence that feels like it’s listening.

Jade says something—soft, quiet, amused—as he opens the storage room. His eyes linger on you for a second too long, and that’s when you should’ve known. There’s something in the glint of his gaze, the way his smile stretches a touch too wide, his fingers brushing yours as he takes the last jar from your hands.

Then, click. The door closes behind you.

“Jade?” you ask, blinking in the dim glow of the potion room’s crystal lights.

His hands are on your waist in the next breath, fingers curling like vines. “Forgive me,” he says, voice smooth and deadly charming. “But I’ve been thinking about kissing you since this morning’s lecture.”

He tilts his head, watching your reaction with those sharp, mismatched eyes. You barely get out a sound before he leans in—and then his mouth is on yours, cool and commanding. Jade kisses with precision. Like he’s studied every reaction you’ve ever had, and now he’s crafting the perfect blend of teasing and temptation.

One hand stays on your lower back, the other rises to cradle your jaw as he deepens the kiss, drawing you further into him like the tide. There’s something unnerving about how calm he remains—even as his lips part yours, even as your breath hitches and your knees threaten to give way.

He chuckles softly against your mouth.

“Your heartbeat is quite fast,” he whispers, brushing his lips along the corner of your mouth, then to your neck. “Are you afraid? Or simply excited?”

You can’t answer—not with your brain fogged by the taste of him, the feel of his hands, the delicious chill of his voice echoing in your ear. The room smells faintly of sea-salt and mushrooms, and something deeply Jade—subtle, spiced, unsettling in the most intoxicating way.

Eventually, when he pulls back, your lips feel swollen and your thoughts scattered.

“You’re such a curious creature,” he murmurs, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. “I should study you more often.”

You stumble out of that room later looking like you just got hit by a spell—and Jade? He walks out perfectly composed, with that same unnervingly polite smile on his face. Like he didn’t just wreck your entire nervous system with his mouth.

Floyd Leech

The day is too normal. You can feel it in the air—like the calm before one of Floyd’s storms.

You’re just walking past the Octavinelle hallway, when you feel arms suddenly wrap around your shoulders from behind—too fast, too tight, too Floyd.

“Shrimpyyyyyy~!” he sings against your ear, his voice stretching like taffy. “There you are~!”

You barely have time to react before he’s pulling you sideways—off course, off balance, and into some small, cramped janitor’s closet. It smells like cleaning supplies and old sea salt, and Floyd's eyes gleam in the dark like a predator who’s just cornered something tasty.

“Floyd, what are you doing—?”

“Shhhh,” he hums, pressing a finger to your lips. “I was bored.”

The door clicks shut behind him. You're trapped between the wall and Floyd’s looming grin.

“But now I’ve got you, and you’re way more fun.”

His hands are already on your waist, sliding under your jacket like he owns every inch of your skin. His lips crash into yours like a riptide—wild and messy and Floyd. There’s no rhythm, no pause, just overwhelming sensation. Teeth nip at your bottom lip. A low growl of amusement vibrates in his chest when you gasp.

He pulls back just an inch, enough to look at your kiss-swollen lips and flushed face. “Aww, lookit you,” he coos, voice syrupy and sharp. “All red like a little shrimp. Cute.”

You barely have time to reply before he's kissing you again, harder this time, like he’s trying to claim the breath from your lungs. The tight space only makes it hotter—his body pressed up against yours, nowhere to escape, nothing to focus on but the wild way he kisses you like he might eat you and like he might never stop.

At some point, his hat falls off, and your shirt is rumpled, and there’s laughter—his and yours—mingling between kisses. Floyd stops only when he feels like it, which means you’re left dazed and breathless while he sways lazily, totally unbothered.

“Mmm. You’re fun. Let’s do this again tomorrow, kay?”

He presses a soft, playful kiss to your cheek before throwing open the closet door like you weren’t just making out like lovesick criminals.

You’re pretty sure you’re not getting anything productive done today.

Vil Schoenheit

It happens during a late-night rehearsal.

Vil’s been directing the stage club with sharp eyes and sharper critique, and you’ve been running lines off to the side, helping, watching, admiring. He’s in his element—glowing even under harsh fluorescent lights, every motion graceful and deliberate. But every now and then, his gaze flicks toward you. Not long. Just a glance. A pause.

When the rehearsal ends and the others file out, exhausted and murmuring, Vil’s hand brushes yours as you help him gather props.

"You," he says, not even looking at you—just feeling you there. “With me.”

You blink, confused, but follow him anyway, up toward the costume closet at the back of the auditorium. The second the door clicks shut, he turns sharply, and suddenly, the air is very different.

“You’ve been distracting me all night,” he murmurs, stepping closer. “Do you enjoy driving me to the edge of my focus?”

“Vil—”

His name barely leaves your lips before he kisses you—hard, precise, intentional. There’s no hesitation, no test run. His mouth is demanding, confident, and so, so good. His fingers slip under your jaw, tilting your head just so, like he’s posing you for a photo—only this time, the only thing he’s interested in perfecting is the sound of your breath catching under him.

You make a small sound in the back of your throat and he hums approvingly.

“Pretty,” he says against your lips, voice like silk with thorns. “But I want more.”

You gasp when he kisses you again, this time deeper—pressing you gently but firmly against the back wall, surrounded by velvet capes and half-hung feather boas. His scent—rosewater, powder, and something earthy—completely envelopes you, and all you can think is that this is Vil, and he’s kissing you like he’s crafting a masterpiece.

When he finally pulls back, your lipstick’s smudged (if you had any on) and your knees are weak. He brushes your hair back into place with meticulous fingers and studies your flushed face with faint amusement.

“Tch,” he clicks his tongue, smoothing the collar of your shirt. “You’re an absolute mess. Honestly.”

But there’s a light in his eyes—a smug satisfaction—and before you can respond, he kisses you again, slow and teasing this time, like a reward.

As you leave the closet, he doesn’t hide the slight smug curve of his lips.

“You’ll be thinking about this all night,” he murmurs—and he's right.

Malleus Draconia

It starts with a storm. Of course it does.

You're walking across campus in the early evening, books tucked under your arm, clouds brooding overhead like they’ve been watching you. The wind picks up suddenly, ruffling your hair—and before you can even think of running for cover, a familiar voice calls your name.

You turn, and Malleus is already there.

There’s always something otherworldly about the way he appears—silent, graceful, like a dream blooming out of mist. “You're walking alone,” he says, like it's a crime. “Come. You'll catch cold.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to reply before he gently takes your wrist and leads you to a tucked-away building near the edge of campus—a half-forgotten stone structure, unused, echoing with the scent of dust and damp air. He pushes open the creaking door to a tiny, empty classroom. The windows rattle as thunder rolls in the distance.

“You shouldn’t wander in the storm,” he murmurs, voice deep and rich with ancient cadence. “Something might take you.”

And then he steps closer—like the storm outside is leaking into the room through his presence. He watches you carefully, like he's weighing the moment, deciding something. His hand lifts—long fingers tracing the edge of your jaw so lightly it gives you chills.

“I’ve been… yearning,” he confesses softly, the word hanging in the space like lightning just before it strikes. “May I…?”

You don’t have time to respond before he kisses you.

Malleus kisses with reverence—slow, deliberate, almost ceremonial. Like he’s not just kissing you—he’s binding you, like this moment is a spell only you and he will remember. His lips are cool at first, but warmth builds quickly, rushing into your chest as his hand slips around your waist to draw you closer.

He holds you like something precious—untouchable to the rest of the world. One hand pressed flat against the small of your back, the other cradling your face like he’s afraid you might vanish. His mouth moves against yours with growing intensity, every brush and sigh and pull deepening into something devastating.

The thunder cracks again, louder now.

“You’re trembling,” he whispers against your lips.

“No, I’m—” But you are. Whether it’s from him or the kiss or the storm, you’re not sure.

He leans in again, his forehead resting against yours.

“If I could… I would steal away time itself to keep us like this,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion that you can feel in his chest.

And in that moment, as lightning streaks across the sky outside the window, you almost believe he could.

Lilia Vanrouge

It happens so suddenly—because that’s just how Lilia is.

One second, you’re sitting together in the music room, flipping through a book while he plays idle chords on the piano. His voice is humming softly to the melody, his eyes flicking toward you now and then with a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You feel it building—the way his gaze lingers longer, the way his fingers slow on the keys.

Then he stops playing entirely, shuts the piano lid, and smirks.

“Hmm… I think I’ve been very patient today.”

You blink. “Patient for what?”

“Oh? You haven’t noticed?” His grin sharpens like a blade. “How disappointing.”

He stands, strides across the room in two steps, and loops his arms around you before you can react. You let out a soft laugh, but he’s already hoisting you up and carrying you—not out of the room, no, but across to a small side door you’d never paid attention to before.

It opens with a creak into a cramped storage space filled with old sheet music and velvet curtains, lit by a single flickering light. Before you can ask what he’s up to, he shuts the door behind him, trapping you in the tiny room with him—and then he kisses you.

Lilia’s kisses are playful, but not light. No, no—he kisses like he’s taunting you and loving you all at once. A smirk against your lips, followed by a sudden tug on your collar. He bites just enough to make you gasp and then soothes the sting with a slow, languid kiss that has your spine arching off the wall.

“Mmh… That sound you made,” he whispers against your lips. “Let’s see if I can coax another one.”

Your hands scramble into his hair as he deepens the kiss, rolling his hips just enough to press you into the wall. He groans low and pleased when you react, his gloved hands sliding down your sides, teasing the hem of your shirt, his lips never leaving yours for more than a second.

Everything about him is tease and temptation. He kisses like a sin wrapped in velvet—like a lullaby you don’t want to wake from.

Eventually, he draws back—just barely—his breath brushing over your cheek as he chuckles.

“Well, that certainly chased away the boredom,” he says, clearly pleased with himself. “But now I want more…”

He kisses you again—quick and hard this time—and then winks.

“Better be careful, sweetheart. I may drag you in here again tomorrow. Or the day after. Or both.”

You step out of that storage room a mess—hair disheveled, lips tingling—and Lilia? He just whistles innocently and walks away with a spring in his step.

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cursedcola · 2 months ago

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Prompt: YOU ARE LIKE PAPA!!!! Aka. I'm seeing a trend. The boys are all literal carbon copies of their mommas (or one parent) at this point - so how do they feel having a child that’s THEIR spitting image? In which your genes didn’t even try. Physically...and personality. Masterlist: LinkedUP Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Characters: House-Wardens Format: Headcannons+ imagine (Yes, I know I said I wouldn't be doing bullets anymore...but one more? It's mixed. Can't just cold turkey a gal) A/N: Do I want to make this a series?...I do not know. Maybe? It's really hard to write without the kids having names - and I'm just here like...can I use the names I want? I already made them up in a past post. Would that ruin the experience for people? I mean - it's my stuff and I can do what I want but hmmm.... Warning(?): For this to be, MC's the one who popped the kid out and has reproductive ability to house spawn. Kiddos are biological. Talk of pregnancy and general child-rearing. Use of mother and she/her pronouns to make my life a bit easier.

Riddle couldn't care if his child looked like him down to the last freckle on is butt. What mattered most in that delivery room was that the child came out healthy with no complications. He's the father that doesn't shy away from asking the doctor + midwives questions - perhaps too many, since you nearly toss him out of the delivery room for causing unneeded distress.

In all honesty? Had he studied medicine like his mother pushed - Riddle would've been the one delivering his own child. He copes with stress through control - so imagine THAT scenario.

After birth, he cares much more for the child's skills and manners rather than their appearance. Do they wash their hands before every meal? Say their please and thank you? Do they trust him enough to state their opinions - respectfully, not a potty mouth.

Riddle can and will make them lick a bar of soap if they utter a curse word before the age of 15.

How's their academic drive? Are they social? It's very important that they get along well with others from an early age. He wants them to have many friends.

He's so focused on their personality - aiming to raise a happy, confident, healthy child - that Riddle takes compliments on their physical attributes with a grain of salt until his hard work all those years child-rearing amass into... well, a second less intense version of himself.

He's adamant to ensure the child's homelife is better than what he had growing up. In a way, he misses much while worrying about other things. 10/10 an anxious father, but very doting despite being strict.

"Must I paint a heart on my cheek every day? Why not a crown, or something more fitting us? Like a rose?" his daughter huffed, yet went to paint a large red heart over her cheekbone regardless.

Just like her father, she'd received her invitation to Night Raven. The girl was expecting it, her certainty fueled by perfect grades and a strong aptitude for magic. She did not lack confidence.

Just like her father, she was assured to land in Heartslabyul. Already prepping her cheek-mark before the mirror made any verdict.

Just like her father, she aimed for the position of Housewarden before setting a single foot on campus.

Yet unlike her father, she held no issues in speaking her grievances. She bemoaned about packing, groveled at her mother's feet for her favorite biscuits before living off cafeteria meals, and surely had no reservations stealing Riddle's best fountain pen for her studies.

She keenly resembled a certain ginger that still calls the Rosehearts' household every day despite getting blue-screened by the answering machine.

That’s the last time Riddle allows you to chose the godfather of his child. Ace is an insufferable influence without that power to toss around.

Riddle sighed, plucking the brush from her fingers and pinning her V-shaped bangs back to examine her uniform. He flattens her lapels and redoes her necktie.

His necktie. Gods he’s raised a little thief.

For a moment, as he loops the tie-knot, he's a young boy calling the girl's mother over each morning to straighten her uniform. It's nostalgic, especially with how his daughter squirms under his appraisal.

Definetly her mother’s daughter, he thinks.

It is then that Riddle sees himself through her wide eyes - they're the same greyish blue that were hardened on his first day. His daughter's are much kinder, he notes. She'll easily find companions to eat her meals with.

Her cheeks are full with sweetness- his were too, but by genetic design rather than an extra treat here and there. To this day his baby-face lingers.

Her cheeks were 100% rounded with uncle Trey's spoiling. Not that Riddle could deny her when he'd eat just as much sweets while toiling over papers in his office. He remembers the familiar patter of feet slipping in, tiny hands pushing a cookie on his desk and coating it with crumbs.

He'd scold her to bring a plate next time, but take a break from work to enjoy the moment. Strict yet not domineering. A child that shares should be encouraged, at least that's what one of his many parenting manuals said.

She shared his button nose and tiny stature. Except she loved wearing matching Mary-Janes with her mother, while he wouldn't be caught without a heel at that age. She inherited his height but not his insecurity. Thank goodness.

Perhaps all those comments about his genetics weren't solely in regard to her magical prowess or ambitions. "....Father? Hellloooo?" she side-stepped to grab her bags, just as he reached to flatten her hair for the fifth time. His heart mellowed enough to not scold her impropriety.

"Ah - " Riddle coughed into his fist, " - apologies, little rose. I just never realized how much you look like -"

"You?” She cut in, “Yeah, psssssh. Mother says it at least once a day. About time you listened."

Riddle snorted, pinching between his brows. Yes, of course it was said. Although only now was he beginning to believe it.

"In appearances, yes. Yet your manners are as deplorable as ever."

Leona hopes his children are nothing like him. Which is impossible, since beastmen carry dominant traits when pitted against humans. He's not surprised in the slightest when his child has two little cub-ears atop their head, or that tiny chord barely passing as a tail. A ready snack he threatens to bite off when they misbehave.

At the very least, he hoped for your eyes. His piercing citrine was attractive, no doubt about that. He's not displeased to have them peer up at him from a bassinette each morning. Yet it is your eyes that carry a softness that this palace needs for him to get through his day.

Hey. At least there's no question of paternity. The joke falls flat with the midwives though. 'course it does.

Multiple times, by the way. For someone who claims to dislike loud children, Leona's genes are intent to sire three spitting images of himself.

In every which way - from their squeaky yawns after a mid-day siesta, to the magic flowing in their veins.

"Papa! Look what I learned how to do!"

Leona barely had time to look up from his endless pile of paperwork. The damn thing was near endless, and he'd missed three scheduled siestas just trying to get through the civil dispute filings. His brother spared no mercy in delegating the less 'enthusing' tasks to his 'smart, wise, people-smart' - pah - little brother.

He hated the sea of menial administrative filings.

His eldest daughter was well aware - she hated her homework just as much.

"A stampede's on it's way! Better freeze up before it's too late!"

Which is why she chose that moment to turn her beloved papa's woes to stone. Literally.

The moment her little fingers touched papyrus, the entire stack turned into solid rock. As did the blood in Leona's veins. Sparkly citrine eyes looked at him expectantly. Somewhere in the palace the lioness' tutor was undoubtly scouring to find her, take her back to magic theory, maybe try to cover this up from the other servants.

"You - OI! I needed those - urk, what else have you turned to stone?" he drops the pen in his hand and tries to move the now frozen stack into a drawer.

"Dammit Ki'faji...Where are your tutors? This is exactly why I told your mom combined lessons with Cheka would be a hassle," Leona grumbles and kicks from his desk, quick to check the hall outside. The kid was a bad influence - rambunctious as a twerp and even more riled up as a preteen.

Upon seeing no servants, guards, or even Cheka running up after his cousin - Leona's both relieved and angered.

Angered that his daughter was left alone. She probably escaped to avoid classwork, which he did too at that age but she deserved better. A proper education outside of solitude. One where she could hopefully grow up optimistic about this country and the people inside of it.

Relieved that no servant witnessed her Unique magic. They wouldn't understand. He can't bear the thought of them speaking of her like they did him.

Except it would be inevitable.

Then angered again, because in his hurry her little tail tucked between her legs. She hugged the side of his work desk with her hands fisted at the hem of her tunic. Her lips set in a scared pout, looking up at him past that untamed mane in her eyes. Worried.

"Papa...did I do something wrong?"

He wonders if this is what his father felt like. Being confronted with your own child, knowing that by cruel fate they'd have to face hardships and hatred for something out of their control.

Suffocating. His own throat felt full of sand. The leather on his hands too tight. She looked so much like him. Acted like him. That much Leona never once contested. Ki-Faji bemoaned to the skies that it was like time never passed, and he was stuck in a loop teaching the same unruly child.

It was funny, until it wasn't. "Nah, kiddo. Nothin' like that," he tried to keep his usual drawl. Unclench his fists. Forget about when he first slipped gloves on, "ya gotta warn me before a shock like that. So you finally got your magic tamed down, huh? Good job."

He shut the door and it set closed with a load thud. Leona might have an idea of what his father felt, but right now? She came first.

Ensuring she felt wanted, strong, and damn right accomplished - came first. Everything else later.

So with just a few strides, he swept her up over his shoulder and out from under that desk. She giggled and squawked about turning 'him' to stone if he made her go back to classes.

And Leona made no promises, but set her on the edge of his desk with 'threats' of turning her sweets to sand if she didn't at least try.

"With Unique Magic like that, you'll out-class your cousin before he even catches wind," and a bit of rivalry never hurt to keep the bloodline strong too.

Which judging by his daughter's immediate squirming to go and turn the first-prince to stone? She inherited Leona's competitive streak as well.

Unions between Merfolk and Humans are rare. Roughly 1/100 and that is giving benefit of the doubt. There were too many boundaries and complications. Prejudice born from history, the need for transfiguration, differing lifespans and culture.

One strong deterrent, perhaps the most impactful, is childrearing. The genetic output - while not impossible - is exceedingly unpredictable. Each species of merfolk reproduces differently, and their genetic dominance when put against a human's gene (especially if the mother is human) can cause complications. Capricious complications.

And as we all know - Azul is not fond of chance. Were his child to be born on land, yet have gills? Their lungs are so small, so new, they wouldn't make it to water in time. The same could be if they were born underwater and needed air.

One thing he is certain of, is that Octopi carry strong genetics. Literally. Should the child inherit his strength its kicks could do much more to your stomach than be a tickle to fawn over.

His mother wanted grandchildren, as did his great-grandmother did great grandchildren. Truth be told he wouldn't be opposed to raise one to leave his legacy to. Yet the Ashengrotto genes were strong with each descendent, so much that when he discovered you were with child? He couldn't be happy. Not truly - because too much was at risk and out of his control.

He prayed, which is not something Azul ever does, that the child would take after you. At each stage of development you were monitored down to the last detail, looking for any complications. Even the slightest hint of a tentacle or incompatibility.

Luckily, the child formed feet. Its first kick scared the hell out of him, but at most left you sore. Yet he wasn't able to relax. Not until you were taken care of in the best hospital on land, with a literal aquarium set up next to the bed just in case.

A medical marvel. That's what this child was.

Not a miracle. Not a blessing.

A medical marvel, and the most beautifully unpredictable thing that has ever happened to Azul in his entire life.

There was no clear picture of how his son might look at birth. He waited with bated breath, mentally running through every text he could find on mer-human unions. Banking on all the preparations He arranged and trying not to bite through his nails from the anxiety. The success rate was too low, but you insisted.

And he was most fortunate, because had you not then he wouldn't be holding the most cherished prize of his life.

The baby didn't cry, yet neither did he according to his mother. He was pale, no gills in sight but the wispy swirls of light gray on his head showed Azul's genes wouldn't rescind everything.

It was hidden from view for now, but there were signs of mixed blood on his son's skin. Plentiful black dots spotted his entire body, too dark to be freckles yet too light to be like Azul's outer skin in his mer-form. Time would only tell if Azul's genes really did overtake all, and if his son would look at the world with wet purple eyes.

Yet what struck Azul the most wasn't these obvious traits, ones he predicted at the very start of your pregnancy after endless nights of research.

It was that right below his son's lip, in the same spot as his father, was a small mole. That truly was by chance with no genetic influence.

He thumbed the little speck, marveling at something so small yet he didn't realize he wanted until it was there.

"You weren't lying, huh? Those are some strong genetics you carry."

Azul balked, just barely stopping himself from whipping around too quick. He turned to scold you for not sleeping, worry ebbing at him all over again.

Yet you rest your head against his shoulder, cheek pressed into his ruffled button down to sink against him. His heart still spun like it did as a teenager.

"Look at his little head of hair," you laughed, and he mutely did just that, "if he gets glasses, then I think my bloodline's finished. Might as well say you did mitosis"

That got him to scoff.

"Hardly," he said dismissively, but his lips pulled to smile regardless, "I don't recall giving him feet. That's all your doing."

"Well excuse me for not having eight legs."

"You are excused," he snickered, "Truly, he would be so much more productive with them."

Azul didn't mean that. Well, partially. Yes his son would get much more done with four sets of arms but with other costs.

You hadn't pressed, and he was grateful.

Kalim wants a large family. Not only because it is expected of him as the eldest Asim, but also because he is a family man. He adores his siblings and does his absolute best to give them all attention despite their large quantity.

He's the most doting husband, and is even more attentive as a parent. One thing he will do differently from his father is keeping his family 'small'. Four children minimum, six children maximum. Monogamous as well. As much as he loves all his siblings, the unspoken tensions are too much to endure. Kalim's also a one-spouse kind of guy, and the thought of sharing - while normal for someone of his status - is not for him. No amount of suggestion or pressure will change that. It is bad enough that his children will be subject to worries about their uncles, aunties, and cousins possibly harboring ill-will. Kalim is set on ensuring that they are part of a true family, one without such tensions, and that he can give them all the love they deserve.

Perhaps he feels guilt as the eldest. He received the most attention from his father as the heir, but he has siblings who barely know anything about their father aside from how he looks. He has step-mothers he has met only in formality, and as time went on there were strains between his siblings that he couldn't ignore. Not after taking his official seat.

Kalim will not be the same as his father. Regardless for his respect and love for the man - No matter what the future does to him, no matter if he lives a long life or one cut short. Kalim will make sure his spouse and children are cared for. He loves them more than anything on the planet.

Should he have a family, and the situation demand it? He'd give up his spot as heir in a heartbeat and move far out into the dunes with nothing but the clothes on his back. All for them to be happy and safe. That's the kind of dad he is.

"Baba?"

Kalim resisted the urge to giggle. His eldest son hated when Kalim acted too childlike, and he was already pushing the boy's patience. He was just past thirteen, his fourteenth birthday already planned for a week-long celebration in just a half-month. It would be the biggest banquet the Scaldings Sands had see since Kalim's wedding. His son would soon start officially training as the next head Asim, just like Kalim did at that age.

Yet it was never too early to celebrate one of the best days of Kalim's life. Which is exactly why Kalim hovered outside the boy's window at an hour long past their family's 'bedtime'. The carpet under his feet familiar as ever, as was his son's exhausted disapproval (we wonder which attendant he inherited 'that' look from).

"Come on! Let's go for a carpet ride. Just you and me tonight," Kalim gently pat the space next to him, his smile adamant, "we don't even have to tell your mother."

His son deadpanned. Even Kalim grimaced at that one.

"Okay! If we get caught, I'll take the hit for both of us. Please? It's such a lovely night out. Perfect for a flight~"

Normally it would be the son begging his father to sneak out, not the other way around. Yet Kalim's eldest was much more mature than he was at that age. Despite being his physical copy, those ruby reds never sparkled with excitement like his father's. They were aways fully concentrated - be it on his studies, his charity, or whomever captured his attention. There came a point when a rumor surfaced that he couldn't possibly be Kalims, yet they didn't reach far thanks to the physical resemblance.

The 'only' resemblance. Since the kid hadn't cracked a laugh since he was in diapers.

Something Kalim learned to accept, but never gave up trying.

His son observed from his bed, the boy's nose wrinkled with thought. No doubt wondering if he should tattle to his mom. He was a doting momma's boy, at least he had that in common with his father.

"Fine," he sighed heavily, and rolled out of bed like it was torture.

Kalim waited, holding the curtain open eagerly until his boy hopped the ledge and sat cross-legged on the carpet's far edge.

Then they were off. High above the city where no one would see. Kalim bobbed his head happily, pointing out buildings as if his son hadn't memorized the entire map of their homeland at the ripe age of five.

"Oh! And there's the restaurant I took your mother on our first date. She loves their Kanafeh -"

"Baba, I know. We have it for breakfast twice every week."

Kalim guided the carpet towards lower ground without a response - keeping air, sassy teenagers, and his messy turban from whacking him in the face.

Only two of those three succeeded.

"Why are we even out here? Shouldn't you worry more about your responsibilities? What if mother wakes to an empty bed, did you consider the consequences? Her worries?"

There came those older thoughts out of such a young mouth. Kalim couldn't help but slump inwards, although his smile still hung on. "You're turning fourteen soon," life will change, "Don't you want to enjoy life a bit more before starting your studies? Baba will understand, you know." he said, and perhaps that was not what his son expected to hear. The boy puffed up. His tanned skin rouging with lost composure.

"I'm not like you. Being al Asim means something to me. Maybe you'd understand if you were a proper sultan who took his job and family seriously! Rather than sneaking off in the night for merry rides on a flying carpet!"

Under the moonlight, his son's perfectly primmed white hair bounced in the wind. Even in sleep he managed to keep his appearance tidy. There were times it was like Kailm was looking in warped a mirror. Those rare moments when he caught the boy lapse, usually with his younger siblings or cousins. When he looked softer, his garnet eyes full of kindness rather than the contempt held in them right now.

Except in these moments too - he still saw a mirror. Just one he wished to avoid.

He too disliked his father's way of doing things, to a certain extent. That his own son felt similar wasn't a surprise. It did not lessen the sting regardless.

"Tifli..." Kalim started, and his son faltered at the endearment, "think what you want, but there is nothing that means more to me than our family."

And even if his son wouldn't admit to it - Kalim knew he saw the mirror too. Just because Kalim disliked his father's choices, didn't mean he did not love him.

He reached for his son without a second thought, pulling the boy down to roughly rub his cheek over his head.

and just like that, Kalim was back to being happy and his son back to groaning complaints - albeit less agitated, to Kalim's delight - and pretending he was much more mature than he was deep down. Kalim's opposite yet perfect little replica.

"Ahahaha!!! Look at you! Just wait until the council has to fight against that fire! I can't wait to bring you with me! "

"AGH LET ME GO!!! WHY DID I EVEN AGREE TO THIS?!"

Papa Vil - now that's one unexpected title to tack onto his Resume. Contrary to what everyone might believe of a superstar leading a life on the go, Vil is proud to be a father. His own raised him while juggling his goals, why should Vil's career deny him the joys of fatherhood?

No. When Vil's daughter is born, he is more than prepared to balance family and work. He locked in when taking a spouse, and is never one to be unprepared.

When you were pregnant, he announced a hiatus in his career just as you entered the third trimester. He can afford it. The public loves a family man. He has money money, and wasn't going to risk missing the birth of his first child while travelling.

Also. Supportive husband to the maximum. Considering you were carrying his child, the bare minimum he could do was be readily available as you go through the roughest stage. That baby had a college fund made and filled before she was even born.

Not that he'd just let her mooch - no child of his would grow up without ambition and practiced life skills. He was not 'aiming' to create a replica or enforce his standards...but she wouldn't lack drive. No Schoenheit - not even you - is going to go through life quietly.

His hiatus was meant to extend until she turned one. Old enough to enjoy life on the road, for you to recover, and give 3-5 years for him to work until she started school. Unlike him at that age, she wouldn't be chartered around as much for his work. Nope.

He already had it planned. She'd be enrolled in a private academy, you'd work as you liked in a good neighborhood, and he wouldn't take any contracts outside of the Shaftlands until she was a teenager. Balance. She would have every opportunity, proper support, and hopefully independence to grow outside of his shadow.

The last thing Vil wanted was for her to be influenced by his career - well, other than admiring his films and being that perfect little face to single out int the audience while at a talk-show or photoshoot.

Speaking of Schoenheit genetics and their blossoming careers - heavens above, he fell in love the moment she first opened her eyes. There were few curly blond ringlets that grew out at super speed as the months past, and she inherited his lavender eyes. Although on a baby they were more rounded, doe-like, and would most definitely take his sharp edge as she grew. Every time he booped her little nose, the little giggle that came was almost melodic.

Such a well behaved baby made a cameo in one of his largest projects to date. He took the role of an unruly ostracized duke, where the special effects makeup made him both enchanting yet horribly frightening to young children. His character gained his redemption through raising an orphan, and Vil's little girl was the only baby they could find who wouldn't cry when seeing her father act so heinous.

"Vil, everyone here is itching to know, is it true that the baby we see in 'Redemption of our Finest ' is your own daughter? There are rumors and speculations from those on set yet we'd love confirmation."

Vil shifts in his chair. The many cameras at all angles did little to deter his focus from the interview in progress. It was one of many, and the talk-host across from him looked very eager to get the first scoop on his latest hit success. He smiled to the camera with his eyes, pretending to be in thought for a moment. The questions were all pre-approved, after all.

"Your assumption and the rumors are all correct," he started, crossing his legs and folding his hands together in them, "unfortunately we struggled to find a child that would not cry when faced with my appearance. Poor little things - it is a struggle to rear child actors. Especially babies."

The reporter blinked, somehow still shocked despite knowing the already.

"And you're saying that your daughter is a cut above the rest?" they asked, and he tutted inwardly. The phrasing was poor, as always with these reporters.

"Yes," he gave them a moment's victory, "and no."

He didn't wait for further inquiry.

"My daughter is remarkable - she is my greatest production, a work of perfection alongside my beloved spouse. Yet this film is rated PG-13, and includes scenes not fit for young eyes. Babies act on instincts alone, and for the majority of this film my appearance was...ah, I so rarely say this, but I was unsightly."

His tone carried warning for them not to twist his words, and the message was received as they gestured for those behind the scenes to alter the backdrop.

"We could even argue your acting ability is that good! To make such a beautiful face and poised demeanor come off as cold." they said, and with the click of a button the screen behind them changed.

On it came a picture of an old, tattered bassinette left on the front stoop of a castle. The picture flicked to show inside, and in it was Vil's precious little girl. Special effects added some dirt on her cheeks, and they wrapped her in a tattered blanket for the scene. Yet despite their efforts to make the child look abandoned, Schoenheit genetics demanded the world see such an adorable baby for all she is.

The audience awed at the picture, even without a cue card. Vil himself took on a genuine lift to his practiced smile when seeing her.

"And just look at her folks! Such an adorable little baby! Can you really expect anything less from THE Vil Schoenheit and Eric Venue's heritage. An actor before she can even count! Your wife's genes didn't even try here, did they Vil?"

The crowd appears insatiable as the host scrolls through a series of photos. Some taken from the film, others from photoshoots and the occasional candid photo snuck by paparazzi. He knew better than to try and hide his family, but said nothing as they all made assumptions.

After all - he was beautiful, and his daughter was undoubtedly the most beloved baby in all of Twisted Wonderland. It was only natural and who was he to turn his nose when faced with one of the few facts these reporters have gotten right.

Although, he wasn't entirely content He laughed into his palm, unable to resist the chance and made direct eye-contact with one of the cameras. Knowing full well that you were watching somewhere back stage, lips likely puckered from being disrespected and just waiting for him to come sneak your family out before the public was dismissed.

"I'm afraid there is nothing to argue there. My genes are perfection, not to mention competitive," he smirked seductively at the camera, propping his chin in the palm of his hand, "but I'm not opposed if my wife would like a rematch for a chance to win the next battle."

And with that - he simultaneously spiked his popularity rating and soft-launched what would likely be a second replica coming to life soon.

Maybe.

If you didn't kill him for that stunt first.

Prodigies spawn prodigies. At least in this case.

Idia never pictured himself as a family man. Hells he never thought anyone would even look at him with anything other than disgust (minus that one ghost lady. He doesn’t like to talk about it) let alone marry him. Needless to say that he cannot decide if you are an idiot or if he has plot armor - because those are the only two reasons you could possibly ever agree to give up your entire life and move to STYX just to be with him.

**see Marriage series for settling THAT can of worms

Yet you do, and now he’s got not only his little brother but a whole ass spouse. He’s on cloud nine. Life cannot be letting him have such good luck. The RNG is rigged

Until he learns that you’re with child - and it all goes boom. Literally. Since not only does his daughter inherit his curse, his fiery flames that never tame themselves, and his spiked teeth that nip his lips way too many times for comfort -

She inherits his genius.

Raising a child in a contained base is a living nightmare.

Raising a child with a need to infiltrate the laboratories and experiment is hell. At least he kept to his room when tinkering as a kid. Idia’s daughter has his brains and your craftiness for going around undetected…and your habit of initiating dramatic events. Needless to say that she does NOT keep to your family’s apartment, does NOT submit to any security (he regrets teaching her how to decode the base padlocks), and very much enjoys making STYX ‘lively’….haha…yeah

No one has ever met such a happy Shroud. Excluding Ortho. He was a sweet type of happy. You spawned a menace.

But let’s not derail. Even if he didn’t want her per-say - Idia loves his daughter. His gut twisted seeing the Shroud curse start taking hold over such a tiny body. She was just a toddler and already burning through enough blot to tie her to this place. He knew the feeling of those youthful amber eyes looking at him for guidance. She looked so much like Ortho as a toddler, and as a child began to resemble him more with longer flames.

It was a constant battle every day. Balancing his work while also trying to do better - because his attitude sucked. He knew his attitude sucked. You warned him about using self-deprecative language and for the most part he did learn to reign it in.

Except old habits die hard, and deep down he still struggles to like himself. Seeing his daughter follow in his footsteps burns brutally, since she has all this potential and just like him she’ end up working for the family business without a choice. All because of these stupid flames and these stupid teeth and these stupid genetics and this STUPID curse -

“MAMAAAAAAAA!!!! DADDY’S BEING A BIG MEANIE AGAIN!!!”

Her shrill high-pitched cry carried throughout the apartment. Idia had just enough time to swipe the alarm system off before it processed. He wishes he could regret putting a system to detect and alert if she was distressed when alone here - but couldn’t. Even now. Since this was totally 100% his fault.

Dammit this kid has lungs of steel.

“Nonononononono - No Mama! No! Shhh shh shh shh!” He grapppled at her little shoulders with clammy hands, “Look! Look I’m not sad, see??? We have pretty hair! Super cool hair! Please please please stop crying -“

And then she did.

The tonal whiplash. The way this tiny manipulator just ceased all her tears, mouth clamping shut with an audible click. A literal child pulling out a handkerchief from her pocket to pat her eyes dry - like some twisted 60yr old swindler at a poker game who’s been training for this moment for decades.

He should have known.

Honestly. Idia can’t even bring himself to be mad. The amount of gaslighting it took to get this kid off his Ninswendo last week already put his best tricks to use.

He is the one who created this monster.

Just like her dad - his little girl was hyper aware of people. Including him, and picked up all his weaknesses. She knew damn well that he genuinely had reason to fear only two people - her momma and her grandmother. Both of which lecture him about being a good model. She knew that system was put in place, and to be good when no one was around to watch her. Not that she ever stayed quiet in their home with S.T.Y.X labs to infiltrate.

He just never thought the day would come, when her demon like tendencies would be used for something like this.

“Your her father, not her friend” his mother said.

“It’s bad enough you turned me into a living photocopier - don’t you dare get lenient with her at this age” you warned.

“That child scares me” he thought, and you agreed. Awful. Awful parents. You both mean it in the most loving way possible.

“Hwee hee hee! I’m glad you think so, daddy,” she grinned up at him all sweet-like, with those pointy little chompers ready to stake their claim. She snapped her teeth at him like a piranha, “hehe~ Mommy says our teeth are cool too. The pointies make eating steak easier - oh! Oh! Can we please have steak for dinner tonight? Please?? Pleaseeeeee?”

Something told him that should he say no, those distress detectors would be set off before he could catch them.

“U-uh…yeah, kiddo. Sure thing. Just go play and I’ll put an order in.”

He tried desperately to hide the quiver in his voice, but knew he failed. She skipped off to her bedroom much too happily - even if father’s were supposed to want their kids to be happy, that was too much - and whatever work remained for the evening didn’t seem important

As Idia slid up to one of the house control panels to check for instant-card delivery, he wondered how this became his life, and if this is how his parents felt having a prodigal spawn of the under-hells for a son.

No. He wasn’t that bad….was he? Did he even want to know at this point?

Boom

“DADDY!!! MY EXPERIMENT BLEW UP AND IS LEAKING RED GUNK!”

No. No. He really did not want to know. For the sake of whatever relationship he had with his parents.

He wants as many children as possible. The definition of that one clip of of the kid who wanted 100 children, so that they'd all have to be his friend. Not that Malleus would force his children to be his friends - well, it would be a plus surely - but he does want a large family to live his life beside.

He finds comfort in solitude, but comfort's close companion is loneliness. He wishes to never be partnered with that feeling. There was opposition. Union between the Briar Prince and a human? Unheard of. Not to mention the life-span difference. Not just between himself and you, but also for his children. Half-fae live long, but not as long as full-blooded fae. In time he will still come out alone, but he hopes to have many memories. Much love and warmth to take with him.

Yet this isn't meant to be sad - no, let us focus on the absolute joy he felt when his first child was born. A boy, his magic exceedingly strong despite his lineage. Even the elders were surprised at the magical prowess this child held. It was almost as if Malleus' nightly wishes for his child to be well, to be loved, to be healthy - taking every precaution to ensure you were well cared for during pregnancy, speaking blessings to your stomach in the dead of night - it all just manifested and out came the world's most perfect child.

A Draconia who would grow up with both parents. He'd be protected, nurtured, loved, and never ever alone. Some might call the King overbearing, making sure his spouse had a desk in his office and attending his meetings with a bright yellow baby sling over his chest. It definitely stood out against his royal attire but Malleus didn't mind.

In magic - there was also physical appearance. Being half-human, the child physically aged quicker than Malleus did in his youth. Yet he still retained the Draconia genes, with two curled scaly horns poking out above his forehead. He had no tail at birth, but around puberty many little scales began to poke their way through at his temple, back, wrists, and neck. No one predicted this since the Draconias have never reproduced with humans, but you tried to calm him with poorly convoluted jokes about ' fancy dragon acne'.

Yet according to Lilia, the boy looked like a near carbon-copy of Malleus once he sprouted up. His hair may have been kept shorter, slicked back, and he may carry himself entirely different from his father. Yet the look in his slitted-emerald eyes was exactly the same. His aura was the same.

And Malleus hadn't any idea how to handle that observation. Surely it was meant as a compliment. In the moment, he laughed and took it as one. Who wouldn't be prideful to see themselves in their child? Especially one so accomplished, growing into his scales with pride and eagerly stepping into his role as prince.

Except Malleus wouldn't, because the thought of his child sharing the feelings he had at that age? It unsettled him greatly. Perhaps one of his worst nightmares as a doting father.

“Father?”

Three sharp knocks echoed in Malleus’ study. He needn’t look up from his book, since the door opened with a thud without waiting for his approval.

Not that he minded - no, quite the contrary. He felt excitement building up at the first knock after all. There was only one person who it could be.

No one would dare impose on the Briar King during his downtime.

None had permission for such rudeness.

No one except his dear family, of course. Although as much as he wished for them to cling to his side and be a welcome reprise from his duties - Malleus was rarely afforded such a gift. His eldest son in particular conducted himself more as a knight or distant consultant than a loving son. Perhaps that came from leaving him in Sebek’s care - as much as his knight was ecstatic to become the first prince’s personal guard, his constant reverence to the elder briar ways likely left an impact on an impressionable child. Instead of bedtime stories, the little Draconia likely fell asleep to Sebek's long-winded lectures on the daily.

Back when he was a starry-eyed toddler, of course. Now the boy wouldn't dare let his guard down enough to sleep, even if his safety was guaranteed. Somehow despite Malleus taking every last precaution to rear a tranquil child, he raised a stickler instead.

“Hm? You look troubled, my son” Malleus met his eldest’s rare lack of decorum with amusement. He didn’t bother to hide a fanged smirk from him.

His son, who seemed to bristle in the doorway when under Malleus’ eye, clearly struggled to contain himself into the proper prince he was trying to be.

“Because I am troubled, father” he grit out, hands flexing at his sides. Sharp black fingernails pricking at his palms.

“Oh? And what seems to be the problem? You so rarely come to me with such matters” - to anyone who didn’t know the king, the sentence read as a bitter slight.

Yet it was merely a father sulking for his son’s attention, in his own prideful way.

“That’s precisely the issue,” his son huffed, “with all held respect, you cannot just drop in on my classes whenever you feel like it! It’s disruptive!”

Malleus merely turned the page in his book, “and whose fault is it that I had to resort to such measures?”

His question met a guilty conscience, and so he continued.

“What else am I to do? My child no longer behaves as my blood. He writes home giving stale reports as if he is one of my soldiers and bids his precious family far too few visits,” Malleus looks up from his ‘reading,’ and gestures to the uniform his son wears, “What else am I to do to see my precious son, other than visit his school? I was a student there once. Your headmaster wouldn’t dare to deny my entry.”

“Father - I understand your anger with my negligence but that is not an excuse for disrupting my classmates -“

“They looked quite please with my presence. I even supplemented material for your lecture -“

“They were scared beyond their wits! - And what of mother?! Surely she was against doing something so drastic! Think of our image! The King of Briar Valley cannot just casually drop his responsibilities whenever he so pleases.”

The boy’s composure finally cracked - and even for a half-blood, his power easily contorted the world around them if left unteathered.

Crackles of electricity buzzed across the study, flickering through a lit desk-lamp. As did the temperature lessen some degrees. Rather than be miffed by his son’s explosion, Malleus laughed in the face of it.

So this is how he must have looked during his moments of impulsivity. Hah.

“You’d be foolish to assume she didn’t try and come along. I thought to spare you her ire, as a mercy.”

At that, the lamp ceased it’s flickering to beam a steady light once again. The teen��s cheeks flushed a shameful color, so rare for one who prides himself more than any of his siblings.

"That was not necessary," he softened almost instantly. Even if she nearly committed the same 'crime' as Malleus, it seems favorites were at play.

"You know with certainty that it was."

A Draconia through and through. What was the term Lilia used? “Momma’s boy”? Considering that none disrespect the Queen - the King included - as her ire could strike the most sore spots of their family after all.

The boy pulled at his collar, out of arguments and simmered to displeasure rather than anger. He muttered an apology for losing his temper, and Malleus found himself wishing for the argument to continue just a bit longer.

After all, these were the times he felt most like a father, a husband, part of a family - rather than a king. He misses the early days when he was only the first three, before the council and other influences pushed his children to focus on responsibilities and their lineage.

“I’m sorry for not writing home…or visiting…I hadn’t thought it would trouble you. I simply - I thought it best to place distance between us.”

“Distance?” Malleus balked, “Distance from your family?”

He couldn’t understand why his child would want distance.

How could the boy he worked so hard to instill belonging within, whom he raised from egg to man, whom he would give up everything for - possibly say such a harrowing thing.

His own blood. His heart and soul. To spew such things in the face of ancestors who were bound to loneliness.

Whatever explanation for his manners didn’t matter so long as he was happy, but to intentionally want to be away from all Malleus thought worthwhile in life?

Never-mind. Malleus wanted the argument to cease. Indefinitely. And to tie himself to this desk for a decade or more.

“Yes, Father. Otherwise it is too difficult-“ he hesitated to continue, but one look at his father- whatever expression he might hold that couldn’t be contained despite his efforts - seemed to be the last push, “- being away. From my family. Leaving. I do not like it, but it is my duty. Coming home, hearing from you, mother, even the care packages I receive from grandfather! I can’t eat them but somehow just smelling the burnt food makes me falter! How can you expect me to preform up to our family’s standards, if I am homesick all the time!?”

It was the first time since he was a boy, clinging to Malleus’ legs, begging his parents not to leave him with his babysitters, that his son cried so openly. Malleus nearly gave in each time it happened too.

The pressure of royal duties, of perfection, on his shoulders was the same as those who came before him. Yet Malleus found himself more relieved than anything, even if his child might never recover his pride.

It was also the first time in many years that Malleus hugged his son, careful to avoid his growing blunted horns, and wasn’t pushed away.

“You are already doing more than enough. Loving your family is nothing to be ashamed of, and it is one of my greatest regrets that you thought otherwise for a single moment.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader

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b0kevi · 2 months ago

Text

saying “let’s make out” every time they(house warden + jamil) do something hot

summary: whenever they do something attractive you blurt out ‘let’s make out’ to see what they’ll do

trope: established relationship, suggestive themes

info: making out obv, they/them pronouns, gender neutral reader, not proofread

character: riddle, leona, azul, kalim, jamil, vil, idia, malleus (epel, jade, floyd, lilia, ortho mentioned)

w/c: riddle: 465 leona: 456 azul: 499 kalim: 532 jamil: 424 vil: 435 idia: 527 malleus: 493

riddle

no.

red as his hair

will scream no until he caves

only in private

gentle make out sessions

riddle was currently scolding at his dorm mates for failing to listen and interrupting your guys time together in the garden.

you didn’t mind but the way riddle was so assertive and how he looked in his house warden uniform, you couldn’t help but stare.

once they left, he turned towards you to apologize but before he could say anything you said,

“we should make out.”

he’s so red you don’t know where his hairline starts.

“w-where did that come from?! w-we are in public! that’s against rule 565! absolutely not!”

“hm does that mean we can in private? is that against the queens rules?”

he thought for a moment before grabbing your hand, he pulled you towards the dorm as he walked in front of you to hide his flushed face.

“I.. suppose it isn’t. come on now.”

°˖➴

“this is inappropriate my rose…”

you currently pulled riddle into the nearest empty room you could find.

he was helping out his fellow dorm mates study, you were there to study as well but you were way too distracted by riddles voice.

the way he was assertive yet soft spoken with them. he wanted to make sure the information was getting to them but didn’t want to sound too strict or rude.

that made you snap as you pulled him away from the group.

“is it against the queens rules to want to make out with your very attractive partner?”

riddle placed his hands on your shoulders to keep some distance between you two but he wasn’t doing a good job, he made no effort to push you away

“we have to get back now.” you frowned as you placed a small peck on the edge of his lips.

“no, we can do this later.”

“…no…”

riddle made a frustrated sound before crashing his lips towards yours.

“you’re a bad influence my rose.”

°˖➴

riddle has been cooped up in his room all day. you came over to check on him, reminding him to take breaks but when he’s studying— old habits die hard.

words were not getting through him so you had to resort to actions.

you landed a kiss on his jawline which made him freeze and flare up.

“h-huh?!”

you place more kisses on his jaw and cheek

“w-what are you doing??”

the more kisses you place the redder he gets. he knew what you were doing, he so badly wanted to push you away but he could never do that to you.

he cups your face before boldly pulling your face to his.

roughly kissing you at first but later eases up, gently kissing you, letting all his tension flow away as he kisses you silly.

leona

100% ego boost

cocky

will make out with you right then and there no matter where you are

lazy make out sessions

makes you take the lead until he gets in the mood and takes over

Leona wasn’t doing anything fancy, all he was doing was tidying his hair up in a high ponytail, getting ready for spell drive training.

you were watching him get ready. you love when he puts his hair up, makes him look even more handsome, and leona is already extremely handsome. you’re practically memorized

“we should totally make out.”

he froze a second- caught off guard by your words then smirked at you, you could practically see his ego inflating

“getting bold now herbivore?”

he doesn’t hesitate to give it to you. he crawls towards you, grabbing your waist and attaching his lips to yours roughly.

he might be a little late to practice, but it’s worth it since he’s spending his time with you and getting a reward of seeing the aftermath of your messy face.

°˖➴

it was your first time seeing leona in his official spell drive uniform and

oh my sevens.

he was with his team going over the plan for the game and you couldn’t help but admire how well the uniform looks on him. once he finished, you couldn’t help but say

“let’s make out.”

he chuckles, “what? is that supposed to motivate me?”

his teammates heard— scoffing and snickering.

“i really don’t need to see that before a game..” you could hear epel muttering afar.

leona smirked wide, loving when you get bold enough to say that in public, he’s not afraid to show everyone who you belong to. he pulled you in, devouring your lips right in front of everyone which made everyone gagged— leaving to do something else.

°˖➴

Leona was taking a nap per usual but something about the way the sunlight casted down on his face, enhancing his features made you giddy.

"we should make out."

leona opened one eye to look at you, questioning what you just said. after seeing your determine face, he knew he heard right and you were serious

"then you better get over here herbivore, before I change my mind."

you smiled wide as you jumped on top of him, his hands immediately found your hips to balance you. you kissed him slowly first as he lazily replied.

slow and lazy yet you could feel his love pouring out while running his hands up and down your sides until he started to feel more awake. He’ll never say it out loud but through his actions that’s when it started getting more heated, you had your turn now it’s time for him to show you who’s the king.

azul

flustered everytime

never say that in public, if the twins heard that.. he will hide in his octopod

will only do it if you’re alone

sweet make sessions, not too rough not too gentle

secretly loves when you want to make out

you were waiting for azul to finish up some business at mostro lounge when someone approached you, clearly flirting with you.

you kept reminding them you have a boyfriend and are not interested but they were persistent.

“come on, just one date? then you’ll see if you still want to be with this ‘boyfriend’” you looked disgusted but before you could say anything a voice came behind them.

“that will not be happening. as you can see we are going out on our own date right now, they made it clear they are not interested so please get out or do I need to show you where the door is?” azul was by your side as you saw the twins looming over the person. they got the message and headed out.

“are you alright my pearl?”

“we should make out.” you blurted out as you found that attractive, the twins were snickering as azul turned pink.

“w-what?! what are you- let’s just go.”

°˖➴

azul was scheming up contracts while you were keeping him company. this gave you the opportunity to get a good look at him, the way his glasses sat at the bridge of his nose, beauty mark looking so kissable right now..

you walked behind his chair looking over his shoulder pretending to be interested before casually saying,

“we should make out right now.”

his pen stopped abruptly, messing up what he was writing. you could see his ears turning pink

“w-well, ahem. I guess I do need a break…” he looked around the room even though it was just the two of you, he pulled you onto his lap still looking flustered and guiding himself to your lips.

°˖➴

“my pearl… i’ve told you about this.” you once again announce that you wanted to make out instead of the twins again. he can only take so much of their teasing.

he will gladly do it with no cost but please stop saying it in front of them.

“sorry zul… but… can we?” you had the hopeful glint in your eyes that he couldn’t resist, your lucky he pulled you in his vip room because he really did wanted to kiss you silly.

he sighs, “I should make you pay… but i’ll let it slide just this once.” he cradled your face as he kisses you shyly.

kissing azul was always so sweet, you could tell he was nervous but he put on a front of being confident. azul always sets a steady pace, making it enjoyable for you two.

*knock knock*

“quit sucking each others faces! bleh”

“there are quite a lot of people out here.”

the tips of azuls ears were pink as he groaned. getting one last kiss before he had to leave.

kalim

giggly

loves kissing you, will do it, you don’t even need to ask

will laugh and smile throughout the session

he’s so happy, he can’t keep his hands off you

doesn’t matter where you are but he doesn’t want jamil yelling at him so will prefer private

you and kalim were outside enjoying the sun as he was talking about his day and anything that came to him. he was so bright that your face always hurts when you’re around him from smiling so much.

he was currently making a flower crown as he continued to talk, you were supposed to be making one as well for him but you got distracted as you stared at kalim.

his eyes were like ruby’s as you got lost in them, suddenly remembering how sweet he is. he always saw the good in everything which you loved and admired, it was a nice change considering everyone else at nrc.

“we should make out.” you muttered as you were thinking about all the sweet moments with kalim.

“okay!” kalim didn’t hesitate to lean over to peck your lips then diving back in to leave longer and loving kisses, giggling every once in a while through your lips. he never questions you, always willing or finding excuses(or just straight up) to kiss you.

one hand was running through your hair while the other was playing with your fingers.

°˖➴

kalim invited you to watch him practice at his club and you gladly accepted.

kalim was so talented at the drums it blew you away. they sounded so good and you were having a great time enjoying the music.

kalims outfit was so casual, he was so cute with his beanie you wanted to smooch his face so bad. you were trying so hard to not interrupt him.

practice was finally over and kalim rushed over to you giggling.

“what did you think?”

“you were amazing baby! you were so cool, we should make out.” kalim eyes widened before laughing loudly

“my, young love…” lilia commented as he exited.

“you’re so silly habibi!” he gives you the biggest kiss with the loudest ‘MWAH’ sound. he’s smiling through your kisses while cupping your face between his hands.

will not stop until someone kicks you two out.

°˖➴

“UGH I’ve missed you so much habibi…” jamil didn’t leave kalims side at all today, making sure he gets stuff done and doesn’t do anything crazy which left no time for you two.

kalim has been dying for your affection all day. he plopped down on his bed, pulling you into his grasp

“can we make out… pleaseee?” kalim asked as he’s already placing sweet kisses on your neck and cheek.

you giggle, “i was just about to ask you that.”

kalim lights up as he makes his way to your lips.

laughing through your kisses, always pulling away a bit to kiss the other parts of your face as his hands roam over your body.

he always enjoys moments like this where he can fully love you without anyone interfering or jamil pulling them away. he can let his love overflow through his kisses and touches so you get the message.

jamil

hides behind his hood

you’re crazy

savory make out sessions, loves taking his time with you

he’s very busy so will have to wait until he gets a break

if he could he would do it anywhere anytime

Jamil was making food for yet another party kalim was throwing. you were accompanying him, helping out here and then.

you love watching him cook, how he moves so effortlessly through the kitchen, you couldn't help but blurt out what was on your mind.

"we should totally make out right now.."

jamil paused his cutting. his face heated up but he could just blame the boiling water. he swiftly put his hood up so you couldn’t see his face, trying to play it off

"what are you talking about? help me get these in the water." he changed the subject but he would definitely love to make out with you, maybe he will later.

°˖➴

jamil invited you to watch him play basketball since you’ve been asking him. he moves so agile, making baskets mostly every time. he looks so fine with his hair up, sweat dripping down his face.

they were taking a break and you handed jamil his water bottle,

“you looked so cool out there jamil! we should make out.”

he almost spat out his water. so caught off guard because of your compliment then your statement.

he couldn’t hide his face with his hood so he just used his hand to hide his blush.

“you’re crazy.”

he tried to play it off but then he looked around to make sure no one was listening to them before mumbling

“as much as I would love to right now… we can later, promise.”

°˖➴

jamil finally got time to himself but it was nighttime. that didn’t matter to you, you were just happy to spend time with him. he was currently taking out his braids as you laid in his bed.

before you could get the words out, jamil was already on top of you, devouring your lips.

“i’ve been waiting all day to do that.” he muttered against your lips, leaving kisses all over your face as he continues to speak, “you don’t know how badly I wanted to kiss you every time you asked to make out.” he kisses your jaw, “you drive me insane.”

he basically is sucking the air out of you, savoring the taste of your lips since it’s so rare for him to spend time with you, he loves to take advantage of the time he has to himself.

vil

you’ll ruin his makeup, no

admires your forwardness

either elegant and soft make out sessions or messy sessions depending on what he’s doing later

doesn’t mind messing up his makeup if you’re alone and he doesn’t have to go anywhere later

if he has a shoot, no he will not kiss you, don’t think about it

Vil was trying new makeup products and invited you over to his room to try them out. you love when he does your makeup you get to shamelessly admire him up close. he was putting blush on you, one hand holding your chin up as he applied it to your cheek.

“we should make out…”

his eyes widen then soften as he laughed, you can be so forward when you wanted to.

“that will ruin our makeup dear.” he saw you pout and he couldn’t help himself. he sighs and pulled you closer to him

“you’re lucky my schedule is free today. i’m all yours~” he attacked your lips, he can’t wait to see the finish result of your guys ruined faces.

°˖➴

Vil was at a photo shoot and you were accompanying him, he looked so radiant you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

the photographer told him to take five as he reviewed the photos, vil made his way to you who smiled brightly,

“we should totally make out.. right now..”

vil pinched your cheeks, he could feel your stares and knew you were up to something, “absolutely not. we’re not done here and you’ll ruin my makeup. I know how you get.”

“pleaseee..”

“no.”

“one kiss?”

“no. you can wait after.”

there’s no convincing him when his mind is made up.

°˖➴

“my love, I have a meeting with the director in ten minutes no.” Vil stated as he was touching up, making sure he looked presentable.

you whined at vil saying you guys should make out but of course vil wouldn’t allow it.

“that’s enough time for a couple of kisses…”

vil glared at you through his mirror as to give you a warning to behave but you never listen. you needed to kiss him now.

“fine. just a few. don’t go crazy, I don’t want to test to see if this lipstick is smudge proof.” he finally broke after your constant begging.

he gently took your chin and pulled you in, he kissed you softly, not going too deep or rough to ruin anything.

when vil kisses you like this he’s always so poise, trying to restrain himself from breaking and giving in since he has somewhere to be soon.

“you’re something else my love.”

idia

you break him every time you say it

hairs fully pink

wants to but will NOT make the first move you have to take initiative

awkward make out sessions, he has to warm up before he gets comfortable

only ever in private, he doesn’t leave his room

“we should make out.”

idia.exe has stopped working. crashing out. reboot reboot.

“H-HUHHHH?!”

idia was in a boss fight, so focused on it that it made you smile while you were sitting on his bed watching him play, you didn’t want to bother him since you know how he gets during game but you just had to say what was on your mind.

“y-you’re joking right? is this a prank? where’s the camera?” the tips of his hair is pink as he hides his face, trying to shrink.

“i’m serious idia! we should!”

he still doesn’t believe you, still trying to hide from you but can’t really go anywhere since you’re in his safe haven.

“n-no way! i haven’t even unlocked that yet! we’re only on affinity level 50… making out is totally a level 100 thing…”

he will keep rambling saying this isn’t real, making excuses until you make the first move.

°˖➴

you watched idia work on new equipment for ortho, he was telling you about all the technical stuff and how it will improve ortho which you love when he gets passionate and is willing to talk to you before he gets shy and thinks you don’t care.

“I really think this will improve his speed which could make him go at least-“

“we should make out.”

you watched his hair go from blue to pink in an instant.

he dropped to the floor, hiding himself. “w-what is wrong with you? you can’t just drop that crazy one liner! when did I get into an otome game…”

“maybe when you started dating me.”

“I-I wasn’t ready for that!”

°˖➴

“I can do it… I can do it…” idia is currently hyping himself to kiss you.

you had asked him to make out five minutes ago but he got flustered and is hiding over his sheet. don’t get him wrong, he absolutely wants to make out with you! it’s just hard for him since he’s not use to this, he needs a minute… or two… or five.

“idia, baby, we don’t have to.”

“NO! uh, I-I do I just uhm…” you smiled at him fondly as you removed the sheet over his head, you placed you hand on his cheek before slowly moving in still giving him time to pull away.

“I’m going to kiss you now okay?”

idia appreciates you so much, he nodded, sweating from the proximity as you finally kissed him.

it was slow and gentle. never rushing him, letting him have room to pull away if he wants, but he takes this time to get more comfortable

a few more kisses in, idia is more relaxed as he decided to go deeper and rougher, he needs to take a chance before he regrets it.

when he’s with you he gets a spring of confidence. hes always comfortable with you. you’re his player two, his healer.

malleus

how bold of you to say that to him

will gladly accept no matter where he is

you can text him and he will be at your door as soon as you send it

assertive make out sessions, kisses you like there’s no tomorrow

LOVES it

“we should make ou-“

“I agree.”

you didn’t even get the full sentence out before malleus is already on you gripping your waist.

you couldn’t help but laugh, he’s so lovesick it’s adorable.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, “i’m glad we’re on the same page.”

he’s already savoring your mouth, everytime you share a kiss it leaves you breathless. malleus will always show you how much he loves you, you can feel it through his kisses.

malleus is never an inch away from your face, he sometimes forgets you need to breathe so when you pull away he’s right there following you, waiting to dive back in again.

when you block him to catch your breathe he moves down to your neck and collarbone.

very clingy dragon, once you two start making out he will not let you go anywhere for the rest of the day.

°˖➴

malleus was out at his gargoyle club, you couldn’t join him since you were busy studying. He still called you through to talk about gargoyles, his voice is quite nice to listen to so you didn’t mind.

you’ve been at it nonstop so you took a little break to pay attention to malleus.

he has been going at it, spitting out facts about gargoyles and the history about them.

he’s so passionate you wish you could have joined him so you could see his outfit. the way the wind blows though his hair, you can slightly see his scales on his forehead, oh you miss him.

“we should make out.”

he stopped talking.

*knock knock*

“huh? hold on mal someone’s here.”

it was malleus who still had his phone to his ear at your doorstep.

…

“you are quite the bold one, child of man.”

malleus was visiting late at night like he usually does when you so happen to blurt out about wanting to make out with him

“not many would dare to say that to me.”

“well I would hope not.”

you stated as you pulled him closer by his shirt

“you’re mine and you better only make out with him.”

malleus widened his eyes then let out a real genuine laugh. he absolutely loves how bold you are with him, it shows that you’re not afraid of him and feel comfortable around him.

“I would never be with another. for you will be the only one I spend the rest of my life with, until the end.”

he says into your neck before leaving pecks, trailing his way up to your lips, sucking the air out of your lungs. kissing you like there’s no tomorrow, really showing you that you’re the only one for him.

______๑♡⁠๑______

habibi = my love/beloved (I used google translate I don’t speak arabic)

a/n: THIS IS ASS UGH most of these are the same omg.. idk why riddle was so hard to think of.. writers block or smth.

a/n: whenever I play games n the li does something hot or anything i’m like ‘omggg let’s make out rn’ idk i’ve been playing lads and that one scene where zanye was jealous.. i was like okayy let’s make out RN anyways have a good night/day <3

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