duckkeepswriting

[duckkeepswriting]

Hello Miss Sol! I just saw the event and I can't pass up this opportunity to see you write Valentimes stories.

May I please have Riddle, Romantic, with "No Name Yet" by Double Face? https://youtu.be/U8Sb-laqFbo?si=wBDPDKcgILJgCWll

Thank you!

enstars??? in my inbox?? unexpected but love that

"The joy of first bloom" || Riddle Rosehearts

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: No Name Yet by Double Face

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 650

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Pre-relationship, Realization of feelings

The rose garden is quiet today. The gentle breeze carries the scent of fresh blossoms, and the golden afternoon light filters through the hedges, painting shifting patterns on the stone paths. It's peaceful—serene in a way that Riddle never quite knows how to handle.

Even now, with the weight of his past slowly loosening its grip, he still fights against the instinct to fill the silence with purpose. His hands remain stiff on his lap, posture perfect, eyes focused ahead as if waiting for an order. Old habits die hard.

But then, there's you.

Sitting beside him, humming some quiet, nameless tune, letting the sunlight kiss your skin without a care in the world. You've always been like this—effortlessly free, your warmth spilling into his life like a season he'd never been allowed to experience.

He doesn't quite understand it. Even after all this time, after everything he’s shown you—his ugly, controlling nature, the temper he barely manages to keep in check, the aftermath of his overblot—you remain. Smiling, laughing, asking him if he's eaten lunch today, if he's gotten enough rest.

As if it’s that simple. As if he isn’t something fractured, something still learning how to exist outside the rigid structure he was raised in.

He doesn’t deserve it.

And yet, he wants it.

He wants to be near you. He wants to hear you call his name like it’s something soft, not something sharp and demanding. He wants to be worthy of the warmth you offer so freely.

But he doesn’t know how.

The thought makes his hands clench slightly, nails pressing crescents into the fabric of his uniform.

You glance at him, sensing his tension, and tilt your head. “What’s on your mind, Riddle?”

He swallows. He could lie. It would be easy—he’s spent his whole life hiding his emotions, curating himself into something palatable. But something about the way you look at him makes honesty feel possible.

“I was thinking about…growth.”

Your eyes soften. “Oh?”

He hesitates, then gestures vaguely toward the garden. “These roses. They bloom so easily, don’t they? But they require constant care, the right conditions. Pruning, sunlight, proper watering.” He exhales, gaze dropping. “I wonder… if there are some flowers that simply aren’t meant to bloom.”

You’re quiet for a moment, considering his words. Then, with a thoughtful hum, you reach down and pluck a stray wildflower that’s sprouted between the neatly trimmed hedges. It’s small, delicate—pale blue petals trembling slightly in the breeze.

“Not every flower blooms the same way,” you say, holding it out to him. “Some take longer. Some need different care than others. But that doesn’t mean they’re not meant to bloom.”

He stares at the flower in your hands, his heart beating strangely in his chest.

You continue, voice gentle. “I think you’ve been growing this whole time, Riddle. Even if you don’t realize it.”

His fingers twitch, aching to take the flower from your hand, to hold onto something so simple yet so profound. But he doesn’t. Instead, he watches as you tuck it behind his ear, fingers brushing against his hairline, lingering for just a second too long.

Warmth seeps into his chest.

Only you, he thinks.

Only you would make him feel this warm.

It isn’t until later, when he’s alone in his room, that he looks in the mirror and sees the flower still tucked behind his ear.

His fingers brush against the petals, delicate and real.

It has no name, but somehow, that feels right.

Because whatever this feeling is—the way his chest tightens when you smile at him, the way his pulse quickens when you touch his hand—it has no name yet.

But someday, he thinks, it will bloom into something beautiful.

And for the first time, he’s not afraid of it.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[duckkeepswriting]

Always an angel never a God

[duckkeepswriting]

It sounds really fun. I haven't done one before, but let's go anyway! \⁠(⁠๑⁠╹⁠◡⁠╹⁠๑⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♬

a bigbang is a collaborative event where writers and artists collaborate during a creative period, usually of a couple months, to create completely new works together! artists and writers are paired and create art and fic for the same collective work. please reblog if you vote so i can get the widest range of responses!

[duckkeepswriting]

He deserves the world. How I love him so 😭😭

t. leo — play it on repeat

warnings: insecurity

Leo can never stop thinking about you, and he thinks it might be becoming a problem.

There’s a constant melody playing in his head on loop, but he’s not complaining! This is good inspiration, something that will stick with him for a while. He can visualise the notes in his head, and hurriedly gropes around in his backpack for the sheaf of papers he knows is in there, somewhere.

They’re a little crumpled when he unfurls them, but he doesn’t complain. After all, any paper is good paper!

He begins scribbling, attempting to get this down pat before the tentative symphony his genius brain is forming is replaced with another one. This happens a lot—him losing the melody before he’s even finished crafting it, the cogs in his brain constantly turning, turning, turning.

He’s like a machine! Albeit a very clunky one, because his brain doesn’t really work the way it’s supposed to… No matter! Leo can already tell the song that he’s writing will be a good one. He can’t wait to show it to everyone…!

As he hums under his breath, he imagines your features following the path of the music. The dips and curves, tracing the slope of your nose and cheekbones with his fingertips the way he is wont to do, affectionately. The crescendo patterns itself after the swish of your hair and as the music hits its peak, he thinks of the way your fingers, fine-boned and delicate like a bird’s wing or a cat’s paw, move idly as you speak.

Perfect, perfect, perfect, this music is perfect—borne from his ever-thinking mind, riddled with thoughts of you, you, you.

The lyrics, too, start to form. Bird’s winged love, my heart yearns. Leo bites his lip. Objectively, he knows it’s good. Everything he writes is. He just wonders… Because it has to be perfect, obviously. If it’s not perfect, it’s not worth it.

And you are perfect, so you’re most definitely worth it. He has to make this worth something, to you. He wants to see that look in your eyes, the one you get when you spot something you adore. He wants to be the one to put that spark there. He wants, he wants, he wants so badly it hurts.

When he presents this gift to you, he needs to know that you will keep it in a special plce in your heart. It’s a selfish thought, Leo can’t claim your whole heart. But he’ll be satisfied with just a piece. Enough to secure his place there.

If you were here, you’d joke and tell him, my whole heart is yours, silly. You’re not here right now. But you will be. Soon, soon, soon. It will be morning and you will show up at his door with a bouquet of flowers, blinding as the sun, and you will offer him your hand.

He remembers. You smiled at him, once. He thinks of the curve of your lips, secretive and oh so lovely. You smile at him, and he falls in love all over again. Pretty, pretty, pretty, a smile like the moon. My dear, I love you so. You laugh, laugh, laugh and Leo loves, loves, loves.

© tokusaatsus 2023

wc. 533 words

reze txt. hbd leo! the only energy i could muster turned into... this. please enjoy, i put effort into it ;_; (spiritual gift for @akinachiri ♡ ily bff sooo sorry i cucked your husband /hj) title is from do i wanna know by the arctic monkeys

taglist. (fill out the form or send an ask to be added!) @prpne​ @gabirii​ @kazemiya​ @engurishu​ @kkomaism​ @asbestieos​ @mikctp​ @lilikags​ @lolthia​ @unwantedsleep @hasumilvr​ @head-full-of-empty​ @pr3tty-jennie​ @narumika​

[duckkeepswriting]

Quiet Moments

You knew what you were getting into when you confessed your feelings to Leo Tsukinaga. To admit that yes, beyond his chaotic artistic processes and maddening proclivity to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, you found the beauty in the typhoon that was the foolish old king.

And in turn, despite your growing fears of rejection, the king matched you in your feelings, albeit in a way nobody could have predicted.

A glimmer of quietness had shown through his cacophonous nature when he took your hand in his and clasped the tips of your fingers with a gentle, almost wistful smile. "An artist who loves their muse isn't unheard of, but a muse to love their artist? That feels like a dream within a dream," he murmured. You were taken aback by his poignancy.

"Aha~☆ You're so sweet! I love you, you know? I love you a whooooooole lot☆!"

Ah, there he was.

That soft dip of time where everything felt slow and delicate was not a one-off. You found that despite your assumption of being whisked away by his blistering tempo fueled by his roller-coaster like eccentricities, was mostly matched had it not been for his sudden shift of romantic chivalry. This was not to be confused with his stage persona, oh no. This was something else, something almost phantomlike and raw.

Even through fits of inspiration where his impulsive nature had his hands arrested by the gauntlet of music composition, there were moments where you felt as if time had stopped. Wherever you two were, whatever ambience played in his scribbling, it would all freeze over when he'd do what you thought to be impossible - stop mid measure just to look up at you.

You were not a stranger to his violent waves of artistic splendor that disconnected him from reality for minutes at a time, hours if it was particularly strong. Never had he bothered to give anyone the time of day when he found the melody, not even you. And you were okay with that, of course.

But then, in that frozen blip of time, he was staring at you with eyes hardened with determination under softened lids. He extended his free hand towards your cheekbone, letting his fingers glide against your peachy skin, only to ghost over strands of hair that were so graciously tucked behind your ear. Time resumed, and he was back to frantically scribbling away, satisfied that he didn't have to fight for the last measure like always had. You didn't know how to react other than to pat his back with acknowledgment, albeit with a pinch of embarrassed confusion. These breaks weren't restricted to his composing. He had these dips when you two ate, where mid-sentence he'd wipe away any bits of food you had stuck to your mouth with a gentle swipe of a napkin. Where when you two walked together, despite him yanking you around and losing himself to his own pathing, he would slip your hand into his jacket pocket, his fingers caressing the knobs of your knuckles under the cloak of woven cotton. Or how he'd drag you to his practices and through his disruptive behavior, there were moments that made you catch the little glint in his eye when he danced seriously. Little touches here and there that contrasted his monstrous bear hugs. Sneaky kisses under your jaw when you least expected it. The little things that would've kept you on your toes by definition, but instead had you lax and fluffy in the coming months of your love.

His biggest dip was when you both had your shared days off, allowing each other to hole yourselves up in a room where you could unwind with a movie or two. You half expected him to talk throughout the film, but he was surprisingly docile. No matter how much affection you showed, no matter how much you stroked his hair and planted lazy kisses against his temple as you two snuggled up under the ambient light of the TV, he remained quiet. Content, even.

The biggest stopper was when you two slept together. With your back against his chest, under the cover of darkness he felt the need to compose against you. To use the little bumps of your spine as a piano role while your shoulder blade served as a great surface to write on with nothing but his finger.

His prodding was gentle, too ghostly to take noticeable effect on your sleep, and while it'd be normal enough for him to launch himself out of bed to compose in his scribbly sketchbook, peeling himself away from you would make his melody turn to mush and slip between the cracks of his memories. He couldn't have that happen, not when his heart thumped to the tempo of his loving tune so perfectly.

Delicately written on you, little notes were signed off here and there - notes that say:

"In E-flat major -- Chopin be damned."

"Piano- I hope you feel my love for you in your gentle dreams"

"Lento- as soothing as your breath right now"

"Dolce- this is the part where I can't help but think of you no matter how much I try to focus on the melody."

In the morning, after all that had been etched in secret remained lost on you as he placed a warm palm against your cheek. You failed to return the favor for he was quick to pinch and prod with a hearty laugh, pushing aside the flowery gesture with his electric nature.

You were ill-prepared for those soft moments, moments that felt as if time had stopped just for Leo to look at you, really look at you, and expose his tenderness and fragile heart to someone so willing to love him at his most exposed.

[duckkeepswriting]

"Have You Heard?"

@flufftober 2022: Day 22 Words: 745

Content Warning: Mentions of suicide

A/N: Part of my upcoming Ensemble Stars story. While an OC is used, please feel free to self-insert instead!

A haunting melody in the middle of the night causes the Producer to seek out where, or whom it might be coming from. Surely it's not the ghost Hinata's been talking about..?

Night had fallen on Yumenosaki Academy. Most of everyone had gone home, even the hardworking Anzu had retired for the day. Yet the young producer found herself navigating the dark halls of the school, the dim moonlight pouring in from the windows the only guide.

The doors to the Handicraft Clubroom closed with a gentle thud, though in the quiet halls, it may as well have been as loud as a gunshot. Not for the first time, the girl internally cursed her forgetfulness, having left her sketchbook earlier in the day. She pocketed the spare key Tsumugi had given her long ago as she made her way to leave-

"...Utagoe no hana ga mau..."

The sketchbook in her arms clattered to the floor with a loud thump, though the girl could barely hear it through the rapid beating of her own heart. She should have been all alone with not a soul in sight, and she was starting to wonder whether that was a good thing or not.

"It was just my imagination..." she tried calming her racing heartbeat as she picked up the fallen sketchbook. "There's no one here except me..."

"...Kuchi nagara..."

No, that was definitely a voice, one entirely different from her own.

Breath stopping at her throat and a white-knuckle grip on her sketchbook, the younger producer was shaking like a leaf, frozen stiff in her spot by the door. Her mind immediately went to all of the many stories the older Aoi twin liked to tell her about the school.

"Have you heard?" Hinata whispered mischievously by her ear one afternoon while she was making preparations for 2Wink's next live. "About the Seven Wonders of Yumenosaki Academy?"

Yuta had been quick to shut down his brother, scolding him for bothering her and getting him back to rehearsing. She tried to recall what the older twin had said; something about a painting that could make its hair longer, a piano playing by itself-

"...Eien wo..."

And a female student in the idol course who jumped off the school roof due to unknown circumstances.

"I-It's Hina playing a prank, it h-has to be!" she tried reassuring herself, as the haunting voice continued its melancholy tune.

Though everything in her was screaming for her to run, something about the ethereal voice was drawing her in. Like a sailor being lured to his death by a siren, shaky footsteps marched their way to the rooftop. The moonlight was brighter now that she was actually outside, and it gave her the extra bit of courage to find where the melody was coming from. She continued onwards until she could see a silhouette facing away from her until the dark clouds parted just enough for moonlight to shine upon an oh-so-familiar head of dark green hair.

"M-Mika-senpai..." her whisper drifted off in the wind, but it was enough for the aforementioned male to stop and turn towards her.

"K-Kazue..?" Mika called out before a smaller body collided with his own.

A silent "Oomf" escaped him before he instinctively wrapped his arms around the petite girl. He could feel her shaking as she buried her face in his chest, her own arms almost desperately trying to keep him in place.

"H-Hey, what's wrong?" Mika asked, frantically wracking his brain for any reason why their producer seemed so upset. He eventually settled for awkwardly petting her soft bed of white hair, almost glistening silver in the late evening light. "I thought ya went home? Wha' happened?"

He abruptly stopped petting her, instead firmly placing his hands on her shoulders. Intense mismatched hues stared into light blue gems, gems that, upon closer inspection, seemed to be on the verge of tears. Fear crept onto the boy's countenance as he gently tried to reassure the girl.

"I's okay, you're gon' be okay," Mika consoled as he returned to placing soft pats on her head. He hoped the brief moment of fear that flashed through him at seeing their sweet producer all teary-eyed wasn't as noticeable in the dim lighting. "Yer safe now."

Later that evening, Mika would escort the younger girl home. And while he was sworn to secrecy that he wouldn't mention her frantic state at having thought he was a ghost, perhaps he would stop his nightly practices on the rooftop for a bit. And just maybe he would ask his teacher to pull some strings and keep their producer away from the Aoi twins for a while.

[duckkeepswriting]

Kiss for Goodluck

@flufftober 2022: Day 21 Words: 861

A new scrape, a new bruise, a broken arm. Lord Barbatos, please don't let it be a body bag next! So what's a medic to do with Mondstadt's most accident-prone adventurer?

If there was one person who frequented the medical wing of the Cathedral the most, it was the leader of Barbara's Fanclub- Albert. Though Bennett would be a very close second. And while the former mostly came in with minor cuts- a ruse to try and get closer to Mondstadt's charming deaconess- Bennett usually came in a bit more than worse for wear.

At first, his penchant for trouble was chalked up to being one of the younger adventurers in the guild. It was part of the job, certainly nothing a little experience wouldn't fix, right?

"Ow! Can you be a little more gentle, please?" The boy's plea was met with an icy glare that immediately shut him up.

"It's only Friday," you deadpan while tightening the bandage a little too tight on his left arm, and the boy withheld a wince, lest he suffers more of your wrath. "Yet you've already been here five times this week."

"I know, I know," Bennett muttered apologetically. "But really, that hilichurl camp came out of nowhere!" You bite back the retort bubbling in your throat. After all, hilichurl camps don't spawn from nothing. Though when it came to this particular adventurer anything is possible.

Despite having known the unlucky adventurer for years, seeing him all banged up was still something you failed to get used to. Games of tag with Bennett often resulted in someone- more often him to be perfectly honest- needing a bandaid or two- almost always supplied by you. And hide-and-seek would go from hiding from each other to hiding from the blazing axe of a mitachurl that just so happened to be nearby.

Eventually, Bennett grew old enough to join his dads at the Adventurers' Guild. Meanwhile, your accumulated knowledge of medicine and first aid, all thanks to a certain white-haired boy, caught the eyes of the healers at the Cathedral. What you'd initially thought as a bittersweet farewell to your childhood friend was actually fate's way of ensuring that your lives would forever be intertwined. You weren't sure what to make of that.

"Where are you off to next?" You questioned, trying to get rid of the thought and the unfamiliar yet not unpleasant feeling that came with it. "Wolvendom with Razor?"

"Not this time," Bennett replied with his signature grin as he gave you a thumbs-up. "I'm off to Dragonspine soon!"

You nearly tripped over yourself, the basket of first-aid supplies almost clattering to the floor. Luckily, there were no other medics on duty or patients confined, that would've earned you a scolding for sure.

"I-I see," you hastily put the items back on their right shelves, trying to recompose yourself as you did so. "Any particular reason..?"

That they're letting you off to one of the most dangerous places in Mondstadt went unheard.

"The guild's actually re-doing one of its old training camps from last year!" Bennett supplied, an excited gleam barely contained in his emerald eyes. "And since I wasn't really able to take part last time cause of... Stuff... This'll be my chance!"

He stood up from his previous place on the cot, giving one last smile that could rival even the glow of Sumeru desert's sun.

"Thanks for patching me up again! Benny's Adventure Team will be happy to have you on board if you decide things get too boring in the Cathedral!"

Bennett hadn't even taken a single step forward when he felt himself being yanked back by the collar of his jacket. He choked, putting a hand to his throat after his assailant deemed him near enough. He would have offered a word of protest- weren't the too-tight bandages you wrapped around him before enough torture?!- had it not been for the feeling of something warm and soft tickling his cheek.

He whipped his head around, almost enough to give himself whiplash. His wide green eyes couldn't meet your averted gaze, and the pink starting to spread across his tan cheeks was nothing compared to the red already staining the tips of your ears.

"Come back alive and in one piece..." It would have been inaudible had Bennett not been entirely focused on your shy form.

Before he could get a word in, he found himself being shoved out of the room. Weak protests at being dragged and manhandled despite his injuries half-heartedly leaving his lips. You'd almost slammed the door in his face, but stopped; leaving a tiny gap to let yourself finally meet brilliant green gems.

"Not too early though. We need to stock up on supplies. You keep using them all."

The door shut with a loud BANG, so much so that a few sisters came over to ask what had happened. Bennett couldn't remember if he was able to answer, mind in a whirl at the sudden turn of events.

Later on, when Cyrus asks one of the adventurers at the camp where Bennett was, he could only give a hearty laugh at the news that the boy had been confined to the Cathedral after tripping and falling off the church's grand set of stairs, dazed and red-faced due to his earlier visit from the medical wing.

[duckkeepswriting]

Bedtime Stories

@flufftober 2022: Day 20 Words: 540

A/N: This is very loosely tied with my upcoming Ensemble Stars story. Please look out for it in the future! In the meantime, I hope you all enjoy this little snippet!

In the warm afternoon light, Ritsu could rest easy knowing that their- no, his- Producer would be right here, by his side.

The nocturnal knight hated being awoken from his slumber, especially when he can still feel the heat of the spring sun through the leaves of the tree he had taken refuge under for the day. But the soft humming and gentle caresses to his head that he had gotten so used to over these past few months had suddenly stopped, and he could only groan irritably at the loss.

"Sorry," a soft voice reached his ears before slightly calloused fingers resumed to tenderly play with his dark locks. "Narukami-senpai just texted me. She's still looking for Sena-senpai."

Ritsu made a non-committal hum under his breath as he made himself more comfortable in his place on her lap. He paid no mind to her embarrassed squeak when he unabashedly wrapped his arms around her middle, using her as both a makeshift teddy bear and pillow.

"R-Ritsu-senpai!" she stuttered, and the boy didn't need to look up to know that a sprinkle of red dust was slowly creeping up the girl's cheeks. "We have to h-help out at the garden terrace today. We should head out s-soon, shouldn't we?"

"Five more minutes," Ritsu replied groggily as the girl tried and failed to coax him to at least sit up. "Hey..."

Deep ruby gems looked up to meet those tinted a bright light blue. And for a moment, Ritsu could feel the air from his lungs escape as he watched the late spring breeze play with the soft white bangs of her hair. He doesn't know when he'd last felt this way, or if he had ever, but the vampiric boy could feel himself get lost in those soft pools of blue. Ah, this is bad. He'd forgotten what to say and he could vaguely register her asking him if he was ready to leave...

"Tell me..." Ritsu whispered, and he could feel something blooming in his chest at the way she looked at him with all of her undivided attention. Her low ponytail draped over her left shoulder, the faint remnants of a blush scattered along her cheeks, and a serene smile tugging on her soft lips-

"How did Tsukipi keep sneaking you in here to watch our lives last year?" That wasn't what he initially wanted to say, but the way red quickly replaced pink had him chuckling under his breath as he watched the girl try to stutter out a coherent response.

"W-We agreed not to talk about that!"

"Spoil me," Ritsu replied as he closed his eyes. "If you tell me, we can go to the garden terrace to meet up with the others."

Ritsu knew it was only an excuse to stay here longer. In fact, he was pretty sure she knew it too. Still, she indulged him. Her quiet voice carried by the wind as she shyly told the escapades she and their leader used to get into. The lethargic knight continued to relax in her hold- her fingers hadn't stopped playing with his hair at all, could she blame him if it made him sleepy?- breath evening out, until little by little he knew no more. There was only the warmth he could feel starting to blossom in his chest as he went back to rest.

[duckkeepswriting]

Hot Chocolate

@flufftober 2022: Day 19 Words: 1,087

Some good food and warm drinks on this cold Halloween Night is the perfect reward after warding off those Magicam Monsters. And spending it with his favorite Prefect just made it all the better.

Epel could feel himself heave a sigh of relief once Professor Trein was out of view. For a second there, he was afraid the strict professor would have caught on that they had used magic against their unwanted visitors and would suffer punishment.

Oh well. All that matters right now is the spread of delicious food just waiting to be devoured in front of him. Sweets ranging from pies, cakes, and candies; savory chicken and meat dishes glistening with their scrumptious juices and glaze- was that a salad in the midst of all this food?

"Good work out there this past week, Epel," a familiar voice rang from the boy's right.

Epel could feel himself choke in surprise, coughing and spluttering at the Prefect's sudden appearance. They wasted no time in handing him a small glass of water, which he accepted in a hurry, and patting him slowly on the back as he felt the cool liquid clear out his throat.

"Sorry..." the Prefect said sheepishly once he could breathe again. "I just wanted to say hi. I feel like I haven't seen any of you these past few days."

"No! It's fine! Ya don't have to apologize, Prefect!" Epel was quick to assure them as they took a seat beside him. "I'm glad tha' we can actually get a break now after the whole Magicam Monster fiasco."

"I'm just glad random people aren't busting through my room anymore..." the Prefect grumbled as Grim scurried off their shoulder to get his own large pile of food.

Epel patted them sympathetically on the back. Dealing with those beasts in the Mirror Chamber was one thing, but having them in your dorm was another. He'd already lost his cool- and suffered more extensive etiquette lessons from Vil as a result- a few too many times this week, he's not sure he could have held back if those people started going through his stuff, too.

"I'm surprised they didn't try though, with Vil being famous and all..."

"Did you say something, Epel?"

"No!" He was quick to deny, before pausing and looking back at them, then to Grim, who was somehow already on his third plate. "Actually Prefect... I was gonna ask ya, I mean, I wanted to ask you something."

When they gave him a nod through a forkful of mashed potatoes (and if he thought the way their head tilted oh so slightly to the side looked adorable, no he didn't!) he tossed one last look at Grim- who was now suspiciously eyeing Ace's plate.

"Deuce mentioned it was Grim's first Halloween and well...," Epel started before trailing off a bit as he could feel the slightest bit of embarrassment tint his cheeks pink. "This is your first Halloween with us, too. Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Absolutely!" the Prefect replied with enthusiasm and Epel could swear there were sparkles around them from way they beamed at him so joyfully. "At first, I honestly didn't know how to feel. After all, my first Halloween here means my first Halloween far away from home."

Epel felt like punching himself when their bright smile slowly turned into something more melancholic. A far away look glossing over their eyes as the Prefect seemed to stare at nothing and everything all at once.

"And then those Magicam Monsters had to cause everyone so much trouble. And Grim was looking forward to this feast so much, too..." they sighed before lifting their gaze towards him again. Epel could feel his breath get lodged in his throat again, but this time it was the Prefect's tiny smile and the mischievous gleam in their eyes that stole it away.

"But everything worked out fine in the end! We got to hand out treats and a few tricks or two," they gave him a conspirational wink and Epel could feel himself burning up despite the chilly autumn breeze wafting about them. "And seeing everyone work together to make this feast happen... And that whole parade you all made for us too..."

Has the Prefect always looked so... Epel couldn't find the words. Serene? Picturesque? The warm lights from the candles and jack-o-lanterns, the wind playfully combing through their hair, the mischief in their eyes turning into something softer-

"It almost..." the Prefect trailed off before starting once again. "It all feels like-"

"Damn it Grim! There's enough food, you don't have to steal from my plate!"

"Too bad! This all just shows none of you are a match for the Great Grim!"

Ace and Grim's shouts resounded around them. Students and visitors alike hurriedly moved out of the way as the two weaved through the crowd. The former muttering curses as he gave chase and the latter swiping food off the plates of the slower, more unsuspecting ones.

"Prefect!" Deuce bounded up to them, clearly distressed.

"I heard," they sighed as they went to stand up. "I'll get Grim. Please stop Ace from committing murder."

"I'll help, too," Epel offered and he received a grateful smile and a small thank you in return.

Though, as he stood up, he couldn't help but notice the Prefect take out a small cylindrical container from beneath the robes of their costume. They reached for the tall steaming mug of hot chocolate before pouring it all into the item they were carrying.

"Prefect... Were you carrying that with you this whole time..?" Epel asked before a smirk found its way on him. "I guess Grim wasn't the only one excited about the feast, huh?"

"I-It's not what you're thinking!" the Prefect stuttered, and the way the apples of their cheeks burned a cute tint of red would be forever preserved in Epel's memory. "It's gonna get colder, so we have to keep ourselves warm out there while we search for Grim!"

'That doesn't explain why you just so happen to have brought an empty thermos to a feast,' Epel thought and by the way the Prefect's face seemed to turn brighter, he could guess they knew what he was thinking.

"E-Enough! We have to find Grim before he eats everything!" they blindly reached out for his wrist, but with how they turned away from him- in embarrassment? Anger? Maybe a bit of both?- had ended up intertwining their fingers instead.

Needless to say, the hot chocolate was completely unnecessary. As the heat in both first years' cheeks, and the warmth from the hand laced with their own was enough to keep the chill of the cold Halloween night at bay.

[duckkeepswriting]

This Is A Tale of A Little Duckling...

Welcome to my little corner

Hi, I'm Duck! I mostly write fluffy stories and the occasional angst here or there. This will contain a mix of "x reader" and OC stories that I make; the former mostly from requests and the latter from my daydreaming mind (^^;;)

This blog is SFW, for the most part, but may sometimes contain dark topics. Rest assured, such stories will be appropriately tagged and contain warnings.

I'm Currently Inspired For:

Ensemble Stars

Genshin Impact

Twisted Wonderland

Masterlist (Under construction)

Requests Are: Open!

Before You Request, Please Note That:

I'm only currently able to write for x readers that are Fem or GN. Please indicate which one you prefer; if left blank I will be using GN.

You can add up to three characters in your request. For Ensemble Stars, you can request for an entire unit.

You can be as vague or as specific as you desire in your requests. Please be patient as depending on how vague or specific a request is, I may have trouble with it.