#Jade x reader

[nekonaps0]

Excuse me… SIR?! Pt2

✦part1 part3

✦ characters: second years

✦ gn!reader

✦the boys suddenly cracked a naughty, suggestive joke

✦you guys really loved the “You are NAUGHTY!!” Series so what if we switch it up and the boys gonna surprise you this time!?👀

Riddle Rosehearts

It was an innocent study session. He was helping you prep for exams, sitting primly across from you. Then, as you leaned down to reach your notes, he blushed immediately and looked away one hand covering his flushed cheeks:

“It’s awfully hard to focus on spellwork with you my rose.”

You froze and raised an eyebrow confused.

“What?”

He didn’t even look up from his textbook he hid behind the pages.

“J-Just pretend I didn’t say anything…”

Your face is burning when you finally realize what’s happening, and now you’re the one who can’t focus. Now both of you sit next to each other like two tomatoes

And somewhere Cater definitely taking pictures of this beautiful scene.

Ruggie Bucchi

You were helping him with chores, teasing him about always working so hard. He tossed a towel at you and replied with a wicked grin:

“Well, I’d work even harder if I got a reward. Maybe something sweet. Like… you wearing nothin’ but an apron and that smile.”

Dead.

You choked. Dropped the soap.

“Ruggie! You can’t just say stuff like that!! Anyone can walk in here!”

He howled laughing.

“Aw, look atcha~! You’re so easy to fluster, it’s adorable.”

You tried to slap his arm, he dodged, still laughing, tail flicking behind him in amusement.

“Careful, babe. Keep lookin’ that cute and I might just cash in that apron fantasy.”

He won’t stop bringing it up. You’ve created a monster.

Azul Ashengrotto

You were helping organize some contracts when Azul adjusted his glasses and looked over at you, completely composed:

“You know… most deals require a bit of negotiation. But for you? I’d gladly trade everything, my dignity, my control… even my clothes.”

You fumbled the papers.

“H-Huh?! Azul?!”

He smiled. Smooth. Polished.

“Unless… you're in the mood for more intimate arrangements?”

You stared at him like he’d grown gills.

“A-Azul!! WHO THOUGHT YOU THESE?!?”

He was eating your embarrassment up. But now he concerned that maybe he made you uncomfortable

“Im sorry my pearl, the twins suggested that you may like this”

…they were not wrong… but please let him to know that he didn’t mess it up!!

Jade Leech

You were fixing a terrarium together. Your fingers brushed his, and Jade leaned in just a little too close.

“My, how delicate your touch is. I wonder… would you be just as gentle if you were holding something far more sensitive?”

You blinked. Jaw dropped.

“J-Jade?!”

He tilted his head, innocent smile on his face.

“Ah? Have I upset you? You seem... flushed.”

You tried to stammer out a response. He only chuckled and returned to the moss with a calm smile.

“I do so enjoy your expressions. Perhaps I’ll provoke a few more before the evening ends.”

You will not survive this eel.

Floyd Leech

You were relaxing and cuddling together in the bed when you leaned over to grab your phone. He immediately laughed and threw his arm around you:

“Ooooh~ Are you trying to seduce me, Shrimpy? With that pose? ‘Cause it’s working~”

You looked at him like he’d lost it.

“I was just getting my phone—!”

“Uh-huh. Suuuuure you were~ Next time just crawl into my lap and make it obvious~”

You squeaked. He howled with laughter, poking your cheek with a teasing grin.

“Hehe~ Look at you goin’ all pink! You’re sooo cuuute when you’re flustered~ Maybe I’ll tease you more~”

You are now his favorite game.

Jamil Viper

It was late. The two of you were alone in the Scarabia lounge. You yawned, stretching your arms above your head. He glanced over. Cool, calm… and then:

“Careful stretching like that in front of me. I might think you're offering something.”

You froze. Eyes wide.

“W-What did you just say?!”

He raised an eyebrow, acting indifferent… but that smirk tugging at his lips? He knows what he just did.

“Mm? Just speaking aloud. Don’t read too much into it.”

Liar.

You’re dying. He’s thriving.

“...Unless you want me to.”

Kalim Al-Asim

You were resting against him, just talking about your day, when Kalim suddenly laughed and said:

“Y’know, I think I love you more than all the gold in the vaults. Actually… if you wore gold and nothing else, I’d love you even more~!”

You choked.

“K-Kalim?!”

He blinked, confused, then laughed again.

“What? I meant it! You’d look so good with just some glitter and maybe one of those sheer scarves, like in the dances! But you look stunning in everything.”

You were a blushing mess. He thought it was cute.

“Awww, you all red, you look adorable! Do you need anything? Water or fruits?”

You regret everything. And the worst part that he doesn’t even realize what kind of effects he has on you.

Silver

You were trying to wake him from a nap. He stirred, eyes half-lidded, and murmured:

“Mm… If you’re going to climb on top of me like that, love… at least buy me dinner first…”

You immediately yelped and flailed away.

“Excuse me?!”

He blinked. Realized what he said. Instantly red.

“W-Wait—! That wasn’t—I didn’t—!!”

Now you’re blushing, and he’s flustered, and both of you are too awkward to look each other in the eye for the next twenty minutes.

Secretly? He’s proud he made you blush.

..............................................................................................................................

[himasgod]

May ı req Leona,Jamil,leech twins and Vil with reader suddenly starts kissing them and showing their love for something they did so simple? Like they just smiled or said somethinf and bum! reader jumos on them.

(sorry for bad english)

LEONA, JAMIL, JADE, FLOYD AND VIL X READER

When you kiss them suddenly out of nonwhere

You were helping him prepare dinner, slicing vegetables while he stirred the pot. You reached for another ingredient when he gently took it from your hand.

“It’s okay. You’ve helped enough. Sit down and relax for once.”

He gave you a small smile— tired, but soft.

It caught you completely off guard. You stared for a second, then leaned in without thinking and kissed him.

Jamil froze mid-movement, the spoon clinking against the edge of the pot. “What…?”

You pulled back quickly.

“I—I’m sorry. You smiled and said something kind and I just… couldn’t help it.”

He blinked slowly, then looked away to hide the rising flush on his cheeks.

“You’re dangerous, I just wanted you to take a break. Didn’t expect that.”

You panicked a little. “Are you mad?”

“…No. But don’t go kissing me like that unless you’re ready for me to return the favor.”

Then, with a little smile. he leaned in and kissed your lips with more care than you'd ever imagined from him.

You and Floyd were walking around campus when he suddenly grabbed your hand and twirled you like you were dancing. Out of nowhere. He laughed loudly, that happy glint in his eyes.

“Shrimpy’s in a good mood today~! I like it! Let's dance!”

Then, with absolutely no warning, he stopped spinning you and just kissed your head, grinning wide.

That warmth hit your chest like a thunderbolt. Without a second thought, you pulled him down and kissed his lips.

He blinked hard. “Eh?!”

You stepped back, stunned by your own boldness.

“I—I’m sorry! You were just so happy and I—”

Floyd looked stunned for all of two seconds before a wide sharp grin spread across his face.

“Heeeeh~? Shrimpy’s getting bold! I like it~ I love it!”

He scooped you up like a plushie and spun you again, this time holding you closer. “Kiss me like that again and I might get addicted~!”

You giggled into his shoulder.

You were watching Vil from the sidelines during a rehearsal. He was directing someone with his usual poise, but when he looked your way, his expression softened.

“You’ve been watching quietly this whole time,” he said, walking over to you during a break.

“I’m proud of how you carry yourself lately. You've grown.”

It wasn’t said with fanfare. Just a sincere compliment from Vil himself. He even reached out, brushing your hair behind your ear gently.

Your heart leapt. You surged forward and kissed him. He went still for a second, then slowly returned the kiss.

When you broke away, you were flushed and flustered.

“Sorry—I just… you praised me. And I wanted to show you how much that meant.”

Vil chuckled quietly, voice smooth as silk.

“Darling… if that’s how you react to praise, I’ll be far more generous with it.”

He cupped your face in one hand, leaning in again.

“But next time, allow me the pleasure of making the first move.”

You and Jade were walking through the greenhouse, damp moss and rare flowers around you. He was telling you about a peculiar glowing mushroom that only bloomed at midnight.

“...It’s said to glow brighter when someone it favors is nearby,” he said, casting you a sideways glance with that smile of his.

“Does that mean this one likes me?”

“It would seem so. And perhaps, I do as well.”

His tone was soft. The smile was small, quietly affectionate.

You didn’t even think—you stepped in and kissed him, hands grabbing his uniform before your brain could catch up.

When you pulled back, Jade looked momentarily stunned.

“…Oh my,” he said, touching his lips. “That was unexpected.”

“I—sorry. You were just… really sweet.”

He laughed softly. “Then I suppose I’ll have to be sweet more often, won’t I?”

He bent forward to kiss your hand.

“And next time, let me initiate.”

You found Leona exactly where you expected: sprawled under a tree, eyes closed. You sat beside him silently, letting him doze. After a while, he cracked one eye open to glance at you.

“…You’re still here, huh? Thought you’d have gotten bored.”

Then he smiled—lazy, half-awake, but just for you.

That simple smile hit you like a tidal wave. You couldn’t stop yourself—you leaned over and kissed him on the lips.

“Hey—what the hell was that for?”

Your heart thudded, cheeks heating up.

“You smiled. It was… cute.”

A slow smirk replaced his surprise. “You’re ridiculous,” he snorted.

“You kiss me for that? You better be careful, herbivore, or I’ll start flashing you smiles just to mess with you.”

He tugged you down beside him, your head landing on his arm.

“Don’t complain if I kiss you again, then” you warned.

“Tch. I dare you.”

[ducksido]

“Forage and Flirt”

You had exactly three regrets.

The first was telling Jade you were "curious" about his mushroom foraging hobby.

The second was following him into the woods behind campus at dusk, where the shadows felt a little too alive and the air had the kind of silence that whispered things.

The third?

Letting him grin at you like that every time you looked unsure.

“Feeling nervous?” Jade asked, crouched near a mossy log. His voice was calm, almost lilting, as his gloved hands delicately parted ferns. “You look quite... tense.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered, eyes flicking to something that may or may not have moved.

Jade chuckled. “Ah, but the forest has a way of exposing discomfort, doesn’t it? All the little twitches. Fascinating.”

You squatted beside him, both to hide your nerves and to escape his gaze. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Hm. I enjoy you being here. That’s different.”

You nearly tipped into the moss.

Jade plucked a small, dusky-purple mushroom and held it between his fingers, turning it toward you like an offering. “This one is edible—mild, slightly nutty when sautéed. I could prepare it for you, if you’d like.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re not going to poison me, are you?”

He tilted his head, as if considering it. “Not today.”

You weren’t sure whether to laugh or bolt. Somehow, you did both—snorting softly and shaking your head as you rose to your feet. He followed, a satisfied gleam in his eyes.

The sky had begun to darken, the moon filtering through the branches. Jade looked ethereal in the twilight, moonlight catching on his pale hair and casting shadows beneath his sharp cheekbones.

“You’re very brave, you know,” he said suddenly.

You blinked. “For what?”

“For trusting me. Even out here.” He stepped closer, brushing some moss from your sleeve with gloved fingers. “It’s rare. Most people flinch when I smile like that.”

You looked up at him, pulse thrumming. “I guess I don’t mind sharp teeth when they come with honest intentions.”

Jade’s eyes softened, the grin turning thoughtful.

“Then I’ll make sure tonight’s dinner is... memorable.”

[kyeri00]

I love how there are 2 different types of groovys here:

Both Jade and Malleus looking MAJESTIC despite being drenched in water (well maybe Jade is):

and then there's Riddle:

(HANG ON, MATE)

[wafflefries13]

Dream a Little Dream of Me (Twisted Wonderland Cast X Reader)

Summary: A look into the future with the Twisted Wonderland cast, guest staring our favorite magicless prefect.

AN: Can you tell which of these were really hard for me to come up with? Overall I'm pretty happy with them. A few of these I feel like I could come up with full-length fics later. But, man, did I not realize exactly how big the cast was until I started writing it all. I thought I would keep them all to around 500 words but I quickly abandoned that.

Warnings: None that I can think of. AFAB reader with she/her pronouns.

“You can see the future?” 

(Y/N) stood with Ace and Deuce, Grim clinging on to the side of the cauldron, watching the swirling purples, blues, and greens of their latest alchemy assignment come together. 

“Sort of?” Deuce said, looking into his own cauldron, one he hadn’t summoned out of thin air this time. “It’s more like what might happen in the future. Like, if you continue doing what you’re doing you’re more likely to get this result sort of thing.” 

“It's not really specific either,” Ace added. “This is kind of a standard potion for midterms. I think every year is doing it.” 

“The oracleum mycoculous mushroom,” Professor Crewel said, giving a stern eye to the chatting group. “Is said to give premonitions, depending on how it is treated. The method we are using today should give vivid dreams on future outcomes. I recommend when you go to bed tonight, focus on a certain aspect of the future you want more information about. Health, career, wealth, marriage. Something nebulous will work better with this specific concoction. It’s important to note that you will be aware that you’re dreaming, but unable to have any agency or action. Remember you’re not controlling the vision, just let it happen and see what information you can gather.”   

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this magic stuff,” (Y/N) said, ladling their potion into a thick mug. She screwed her face up. “Or the smell.” 

“More for me then!” Grim cheered, snatching the mug out of her hands and downing the entire thing before (Y/N) could protest. As soon as he had drained the last drop, he turned a strange shade of green, despite his gray fur. 

(Y/N) pet his head sympathetically as Grim made gagging noises. “That’s what you get for being impatient.” 

As soon as the rest of the class had drunk their potion, with similar reactions to Grim, they were dismissed. The rest of the day went on as normal, or as normal as it could be at Night Raven College. 

As the sun set and students settled into their beds, some eagerly awaited the possible visions that they hoped would come to them as they slept. Others dreaded the uncertain future. Still others ignored the possibilities all together, not putting stock into an uncertain chance of a glimpse of the future, determined to make their fortune themselves. 

And so, NRC slept and dreamed. 

Ace

Ace vaulted over the overturned trash can, dashing after the culprit. His feet pounded the pavement, heart thundering in his ears with every step. The culprit looked over his shoulder to see Ace still in hot pursuit and he dashing out into the street. Cars swerved and braked hard, trying to avoid hitting him, one overcorrecting and swiping into another car. Ace ignored the angry shouts, sliding across the hood of a crashed car with single determination. 

“Ace!” Deuce’s voice crackled from the walky-talky fixed to his tactical vest. “Where are you?” 

Ace quickly flicked his eyes up to check the street signs. “Heading south down Dodgson street!” South? Was that right? It sounded like the right thing to say, and it’s not like he had time to check the position of the sun. 

“On it!” Deuce called back. 

Ace’s muscles burned, but he refused to break stride. The culprit cut through an open air market, shoving and throwing people behind him to try and slow Ace down. Ace tried to catch them while still keeping the culprit in his line of sight. Just when he felt like his lungs were about to give out, an arm shot out from the corner, clotheslining the culprit. The culprit fell back hard, his own momentum bringing him down. Deuce stepped out from the corner, cracking his knuckles. Ace slid to a stop next to them, quickly kneeling down to flip the culprit on his stomach, handcuffing his hands behind him. Stolen mage stones spilled from the culprit’s pockets. 

Later, back at the Arcane Special Defense Unit headquarters in the Queendom of Roses, everyone was celebrating. Senior officers gave hearty congratulations to the two rookies for their final take down of a mage stone thief ring that had been a thorn in their side for almost a decade. Deuce took the praise with a little more grace, demurely waving off attention, while Ace preened and basked in it. 

“Hey, Trappola!” One of the senior officers called over the din. “You got a visitor!” 

(Y/N) poked her head out from behind the officer, giving a little wave. Several of the other officers whistled and whooped, Deuce elbowing him with a smile. Ace flipped them off and jogged over to (Y/N) pulling her out of the main room to a slightly quieter hallway. 

“Hey, hero,” (Y/N) said, kissing his cheek. 

“Hero, huh?” Ace said with a crooked smile. “I like the sound of that.” 

“Don’t get a big head, now.” 

“Hey, you’re talking to a soon to be detective. That deserves some respect, right?” 

“Sure, sure.” (Y/N) flicked his chest. “You’ve always had a big head anyway.” 

“Alright, that’s it!” Smirking, Ace leaned down, slinging his arms around (Y/N)’s midsection and sweeping her up to toss over his shoulder. (Y/N) shrieked in delight as he spun around. Getting dizzy, Ace tripped over his feet, causing them both to tumble down. Ace pivoted at the last second so he landed first, softening the blow, (Y/N) landing on top of him. They both looked at each other for a moment before bursting out in a fit of giggles. 

Catching her breath, (Y/N) rested her chin on Ace’s chest, gazing up at him. He held her close, brushing a hand through her hair. 

“Marry me,” He mumbled. They both seemed shocked that he had said it, Ace immediately blushing with wide eyes. “I - I mean,” He stuttered. “I didn’t mean - I mean, I did, but I didn’t mean to say it now - Not that I wouldn’t want to or anything but -” 

(Y/N) silenced him with a kiss. “It’s okay,” She said when she pulled away, leaving Ace dazed. “I’ll wait for you.” 

Ace pulled her close, burying his face in her shoulder, purposefully ignoring the cheers from the officers who had stuck their heads out the door. He started thinking about jewelry stores nearby. 

Deuce

Deuce fiddled with the clasp on his cape. He looked in the full-length mirror in his room. His private room - some of the perks of being Heartslabyul’s House Warden. He’d been fitted for the uniform at the end of last school year, when Riddle had announced Deuce as his successor. And now, here he was, finally wearing it. It felt awkward. He looked awkward. Not for the first time, he couldn’t believe he was here, wearing it. It didn’t look right. Or, rather, he didn’t look right in it. 

There was a soft knock at his door. Deuce flinched away from fiddling with the uniform like it had burned him. “Come in!” He called. Why did his voice sound so weird? Was that what a House Warden should sound like? 

(Y/N) popped her head in, wearing the formal entrance ceremony robes. “Just me. Whoa.” She stepped inside, staring at Deuce. She looked at him in awe, a smile spreading across her face. She clasped her hands together. “Deuce! You look amazing!” 

He spread his arms wide, trying to find whatever (Y/N) saw in him. “You think so? I don’t look, I don’t know, out of place or anything?” 

She hummed, walking forward and straightening Deuce’s cape. “I think you look like a fine and respectable House Warden, one that all the new first-years are going to love. Although,” She winked at him and Deuce felt himself blush vigorously. “You’re a pretty easy guy to love.” 

“Yeah?” He said, hoping she would ignore the way his voice cracked. 

“Yeah.” She gripped his lapels and pulled him down for a kiss. He wrapped his arms around her. Couldn’t they just stay like this? Did he really have what it took to go out there and give a welcome speech to all those new students?  Not to mention all the returning students who already knew him, all his mess ups and faults and imperfections. 

“Hey.” (Y/N)’s voice snapped him out of it. “You’re getting in your own head again. Everyone’s going to be able to see you just like I do.” She brushed a lock of hair away from his face. “Strong, kind, brave, the world’s best boyfriend. That part is just for me, though.” 

He sighed, dropping his head so their foreheads touched. “I’m glad you’re with me.” 

“I always will be.” 

“Maybe I can get one more kiss?” Deuce said shyly, feeling himself blush again. “For good luck.” 

She smiled up at him. “Sure, for luck.” 

Just as their lips were about to brush, the door slammed open. “What’s the hold up, Juice?” Ace said, storming in. “The first-years are getting antsy out there and - oh, I see.” He grinned wickedly and cocked an eyebrow. “Nevermind, this is much more important.” 

Deuce grabbed the scepter that came with the House Warden uniform. He pointed it at Ace, shouting, “Off with your head!” 

Ace cringed back, arms coming up to shield himself. When nothing happened, he looked up, annoyed.“Hey, that’s not your spell!” 

“No,” Deuce said, grinning. “But I can still whack you with this thing!” 

Deuce chased Ace out of the room, waving the scepter. As Ace dashed down the hall, Deuce felt (Y/N) slip her hand into his. She kissed his cheek. “Come on, House Warden,” She said. “There’s a whole school year waiting for us.” 

Cater

“We on in three, Cater,” The producer said. Cater gave a thumbs up, occupied by the makeup team readjusting his cover so his face didn’t shine under the lights on camera. Behind them, the Shaftland’s Glass Slipper Gala was starting up, celebrities of all ilk stepping out of limos to walk the red carpet and show off the cutting edge of fashion. 

Cater took one more swig of water, brushing invisible dust from his blazer jacket, and fixed his most dazzling smile. “Alright, ready when you are!” 

“Okay, get ready everyone!” The producer said, readjusting her earpiece. “We’re a go in 5, 4, 3…” She mouthed the last two numbers, pointing to Cater as a blinking red light turned on on the camera. 

“Welcome, Shaftlands!” Cater said into his handheld microphone, winking to the camera. “It’s your favorite pop culture and social media consultant, Cater! We’re here at the Glass Slipper Gala, the annual exhibition for all things gorgeous, over the top, and innovative! Let’s see who we can find on the red carpet.” 

Cater waved over a few celebrities, getting quotes that, the next day, would be plastered on the front cover of numerous magazines and social websites. People found it hard not to match his energy, smiling and laughing along. 

Cater had just waved off a rising movie star when he saw someone familiar from the corner of his eye. Weaving their way through the throngs of media, cameras, and various fans hoping to get a glimpse of their bias, (Y/N) gave Cater a little wave. She held up a tray with three cardboard to-go cups, the symbol of his favorite coffee shop emblazoned on the front. Cater cried with delight and beelined it for her. The producer started waving frantically as the cameraman followed his movement with a questioning look. 

“We have a super special treat for you, viewers!” Cater said. (Y/N) blinked in surprise as Cater slung an arm around her shoulder, pulling into a sideways hug. “My wonderful, adorable girlfriend is here! Say hi, sweetie!” 

“Umm, hi?” She held up the tray. “I thought you guys might need a break so I brought you a pick-me-up. A blond roast with three shots of vanilla and milk, green tea with half-and-half, and,” She picked up the last cup and handed it to Cater. “An iced chai latte, size medium but put into a large size so there’s room to mix in extra cinnamon, using oat milk instead of dairy, two pumps brown sugar syrup, one pump mocha syrup, two pumps cinnamon dolce syrup, three shots espresso, cinnamon dusting, and vanilla sweet cream foam.” 

“She even knows my order!” Cater swooned, putting the back of his hand to his forehead. “Viewers, have you ever seen a more perfect person in the whole wide world?”  

“Uh, Cater?” 

“Pretty, smart, and super sweet. What more could you ask for? Well, you all know I like things a little more spicy than sweet, but my girl has that in spades, too, just between us.”

“Should you really be saying this on air?” 

Cater shrugged. “They can edit it all out in post.” “Cater,” The producer said, deadpan. “We’re live right now.” 

(Y/N) gasped as Cater blinked, staring into the single black eye of the camera. The cameraman smiled and shrugged. 

“Oh, well then,” Cater said. In a second, his sparkling smile returned. “Then we should give them a show, right?” 

“Cater, wha-” 

Before she could say anything else, Cater plucked the coffee from (Y/N)’s hands, setting it gently on the ground with his microphone. He jumped back up, taking her into his arms in a low dip, kissing her amid a flurry of flashing lights. 

Trey

The bell above the door had been ringing constantly all day. The small storefront was full to bursting, children pressing their faces against the glass display case to point at every confection they wanted their parents to buy. Shop assistants in crisp mint green and white uniforms handed white boxes over the counter to eager hands. Two others maneuvered extra seating outside under an awning to help combat the surplus customers. 

A teen with emerald green hair escaped into the attached kitchen, taking a deep breath of relief. “Well, big brother,” He said. “I think it’s safe to say the grand re-opening is a success.” 

Trey chuckled from the counter, squeezing buttercream to swirl atop enough cupcakes to feed an army. After a fire halfway destroyed this family’s bakery several months ago, there had been talks of shutting down the business entirely and joining up with some of the bigger corporate shops in town. Trey had scrimped and saved and planned to recreate the shop to his own specifics, making sure to blend years upon years of Clover secret family recipes with his new creations. They were still constructing a new upper level for a specialty dining experience. Patrons would pay a flat sum for a pre-arranged dessert tasting menu set up like a full 6-course dinner, using cutting edge technology, foams and gelatin beads and liquid nitrogen ice cream and all the works. There was already a waiting list for reservations. 

“Uh, Chef?” Another worker poked their head through the door. “You have some people out here asking for you.” 

Trey smiled, whipping his hands on his apron. He quickly directed the other pastry chefs in the kitchen then headed out. The group of Heartslabyul graduates, plus Chenya, Grim, and (Y/N), had taken over one of the outside tables. Ace, Deuce, and Grim were competing to see who could fit more cupcakes into their mouth at once while Riddle chided them. Cater was rearranging his plate of mini-tarts, eclairs, and macarons to take the best pictures. Chenya was sneaking  treats off everyone’s plate while they were preoccupied. (Y/N) noticed Trey first, smiling wide and standing to meet him. 

“There’s the man of the hour,” She said, meeting him in a hug. 

“So, Trey,” Ace asked with a sly look. “How many free samples are we getting today?” 

“Didn’t you get enough when Trey was practicing his new recipes?” Riddle scoffed. 

“You can never get enough of Trey’s baking!” Grim cheered, taking a large bite of another cream puff as creme anglaise bursted all over his furry face. 

Riddle huffed at the display of bad manners before turning to Trey with a smile. “Congratulations are definitely in order. Everything is looking even better than you described.” 

“It was a lot of hard work,” Trey said. “I didn’t think we were going to make it a few times.” 

(Y/N) shoved him. “Oh, stop. You had perfect control the whole time. No one ever doubted you. Especially me.” She pulled him down for a kiss. 

“Bleh!” Grim stuck out his tongue. “Not when I’m eating!” 

(Y/N) smiled wickedly and pulled Trey down to pepper kisses all over his face. Grim, Ace, and Deuce made mocking sounds of disgust before bursting into laughter. 

As everyone refocused on their pastries, (Y/N) leaned over to whisper to Trey. “Should we tell them?” (Y/N) asked.  

“Not yet,” Trey said, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “I want to keep you to myself for a little while longer.” 

Behind their backs, the held hands, matching rings glinting in the light. 

Riddle

Riddle jerked awake at the feeling of hands on his shoulders. He heard an “Oh!” of surprise. A blanket slipped off his shoulders, pooling on the floor. He was sitting at a desk illuminated by a single lamp, the rest of the lights in the small bedroom turned off. Through the window blinds, he could see it was dark outside. He turned to the person behind him who had tried to drape the blanket over him. 

“Sorry,” (Y/N) said. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” Riddle rubbed at his tired eyes, peeling off a loose leaf of notebook paper that was stuck to his cheek. He looked down at the mess of notes and textbooks littering his desk. “No, it’s a good thing,” He said. “I don’t have time for sleep right now. I need to study.” 

(Y/N) frowned at him. “You need sleep, Riddle. You won’t do yourself any good if you fall asleep in the middle of the bar exam.” 

Riddle turned back to his desk, rearranging various documents on magical law and court cases. “A good lawyer needs to be prepared for whatever is thrown at him.” “A good lawyer needs to be able to balance work and rest.” 

“I-” Riddle sighed. 

“At least let me make you some tea and take a break,” (Y/N) said, picking up the blanket and folding it over her arm.

Riddle yawned, blushing at how loud it was. “That’s… a good idea. Thank you.”  

(Y/N) smiled at him, leaning down to kiss his forehead before walking over to the tiny kitchen.

Riddle looked around. They were in a small studio apartment. Riddle’s desk was shoved to one side of the room, a bed on the opposite side, blankets thrown open as if someone had just gotten out. He saw his shoes next to the doorway, neatly arranged, next to (Y/N)’s. A slightly ajar closet door showed it was split between his formal attire and (Y/N)’s clothes. They had been living together for a while, it seemed. 

The bar exam was only a few days away. Five years of grueling school was all leading up to this moment. He’d heard too many stories about how it usually took two or three tries for most people to pass. He was determined to pass on the first try, to prove to himself, and maybe his mother, that he had made the right choice. In his career, in his life, in his partner… 

Riddle looked back at (Y/N) in the small connected kitchen, making sure she was busy with the tea. He opened the top drawer of his desk, just enough to peak inside. The box was still there, small black velvet, holding the ring inside. It was plain, just a simple silver band, polished to a shine by his own hand, but it was all he could afford. Originally, he had wanted to use his mother’s ring, the ring that had been passed down his family for generations, supposedly back to the time of the Queen of Hearts herself. But Riddle’s mother hardly approved of his chosen profession over going into the medical field, much less his partner. He remembered the screaming match they had had, how she was absolutely appalled Riddle would want to be associated with someone with no magic, no future as she put it, not to mention no family lineage to speak of. Riddle hadn’t spoken to her in quite some time. 

Riddle sighed, closing the drawer. (Y/N) had worked hard these past few years, supporting the two of them while Riddle focused on school. She’d always said it was no problem, that she was happy to work whatever odd job she could so Riddle could focus all his energy on his studies. The least he could do was make a name for himself as a lawyer, provide her with the life she deserved. 

She set a tea cup down in front of him. “Here,” She said. “With honey, not sugar.” Taking her own cup, she sat on the bed facing him. “And you’re not going to look at those notes again until you finish drinking it and talk to me.” 

Riddle picked up the cup, letting the warmth of the tea soak into his hands. He cast a glance at the drawer with its loaded secret within. 

“Actually,” He said. “There is something I’ve been wanting to ask you.” 

Leona

Leona ducked, sliding across the field as a Spelldrive disk hurdled over his head. Immediately, he was back on his feet, throwing up a magical shield as the disk crashed back towards him. 

The crowded stadium roared around him, stands packed to bursting. Fans wore team colors, red and gold for his Sunset Savannah team, the Lion Guard, and icy blue and white for the Shaftland’s team they were playing against, the Draugrs. 

“Captain!” A voice called behind him. Leona turned to see one of his teammates fly next to him on a broom. “You okay?” 

Leona brushed off the grass stain on his uniform. “I’m fine. We’re starting the new play, the one we practiced yesterday.”  

His teammate balked. “Are we ready for that? We’ve only practiced it a few times, and never in a game. There’s only a minute left on the clock!” 

“Then we’re running out of time!” Leona snarled. “We’re tied. This is our chance to take the game.”

The flying teammate saluted. “Sir, yes, sir!” He flew up, whistling a code to let the other players know to get in position. A few of them cast worried glances Leona’s way, but their trust in their team captain was obvious as they quickly fell into position. 

Leona fell back as the ground members of his team made an arrow shape ahead of the opposing player who currently held the disk. Suddenly, as the flier crossed the 20-yard line, they inverted. The two flanking the point of the arrow knelt in front of the player at the tip. He jumped to their waiting hands, being launched into the air. The player with the disk reared his broom back, not expecting a ground assault. The player who had been thrown in the air took the opportunistic distraction to claim the disk, hurdling it to a flier on the Sunset Savanna team. The flier took the disk, hovering it a foot from him with magic, and shot back to the opposing team’s goal. As the Draugr broom flying players closed in on him, he dropped the disk without warning, to the waiting hands of a ground player. The ground player dashed forward, dodging tackles from the opposing team. As they closed in on him, he tossed the disk back to a flier. This repeated twice more until the opposing team got used to the play. When another ground player got the disk, sprinting to the goal, all Shaftlands players were focused on the flier hovering above him. The ground player faked throwing the disk up and the opposing team jerked their focus upward. Instead, the ground player flung the disk to Leona’s waiting hands. In the seconds it took for the other team to recognize the play, Leona was already steps away from the goal. He flung the disk, boosted with his own magical energy, and it sailed cleanly through the opposing team’s hoop.

The crowd thundered around him as the buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the game. Leona took a deep breath, throwing his head back in a victorious roar. The rest of his team joined in, supporting their captain, whooping and cheering to their heart's content. 

The team gathered together, slapping each other on the back and jumping in congratulatory victory. A few of them cast sly looks Leona’s way, and before he could question it, he was soaked with an overturned cooler of bright green sports drink. They all laughed as he flung excess droplets at them. 

As the championship cup was brought out, Leona’s ears twitched as a sound. He turned and heard them repeat themselves. “Leona!” (Y/N) ran onto the field, smiling wide. She was wearing an old jersey of his, the one he had when he first joined the pro Spelldrive leagues. She waved her hand high over her head, the light catching on a topaz and diamond ring on her finger. 

He surged forward to meet her, wrapping her in a tight embrace and lifting her up. Without either of them noticing, a camera focused on their reunion, projecting their image on the jumbotron as they embraced and shared a victory kiss.

Jack

Jack held up a hand, stopping the rest of the search and rescue team following behind him. They were trekking up the North Mountain, a popular peak in the backlands in a Shaftlands national park. The snow was more than seven feet deep, and even with their specialized snow shoes they were starting to sink down. They were on the far side of the mountain, bright sunlight blazing across the snow that had been churned up from a recent avalanche. 

“What’s up, chief?” One of the rescue workers asked, readjusting his EMT pack on his shoulders. 

Jack’s ears twitched, trying to pick up the sound he was sure he had just heard. He turned back to his team. “This is the last place the skiers were seen. Everybody fan out to your lanes and start searching.” 

The group spread out, each taking a 40 meter lane as they walked downhill. Each member of the search and rescue team held a thermal meter reader, strong enough to pierce through the snow cover up to 15 meters down. They also inspected the snow for any other sign of disturbance, trying to see if anyone was moving underneath. 

Jack’s ears twitched again, picking up on the minute noise underneath him. He checked his reader, seeing an orange mass that was quickly turning blue. 

“Spotted, 35 meters!” He called out. He unfurled a long thin pole from his pack, carefully jabbing down into the snow. When he met resistance, he slung his pack off and put together his collapsible shovel. He started scooping snow away, flakes swirling up to stick against his eyelashes. Finally about three feet down, he saw a splash of a red coat. He widened his digging circle. “Victim found!” 

The most important thing at the moment was getting the buried person an airway. Jack heaved snow away, using his hands now so he wouldn’t accidentally injure the victim. He heard another one of the rescuers repeat his cry further down, “Victim found!” 

Jack could see the victim breathing, their breath melting a small indent around their nose and mouth. Jack ripped off his glove with his teeth, feeling for a pulse on their neck. It was faint, but it was there. He couldn’t see any visible wounds. The next most important part was getting them out of the snow while moving them as little as possible in case there were any internal or spine related injuries. 

Another rescuer came over to him. “My lane’s clear, sir. Can I help?” 

Jack nodded. “Go get the sled and stabilizing bands.” He saluted, making his way back up. Their team worked with dogsleds for evacuation in these parts, since it was generally less heavy than a snowmobile, and much quieter to avoid any other disruptions. 

Soon, the three missing skiers were loaded up in the sleds. Jack ran through his paramedic training in his head, making sure he and his team weren’t missing anything before they would head back to their base at the foot of the mountain. 

Arriving down, the team moved the victims, two of whom were coming back to consciousness, into a more comfortable and much warmer infirmary. The hospital in the nearby town had already been notified and was sending an ambulance to bring them back for further care. 

After making sure everyone was stable and the victims were being treated for any signs of hypothermia, Jack stepped into the mudroom attached to their rescue station, shaking his head and stomping his boots free from snow. 

“The ambulance will be here in about half an hour,” He heard behind him. He turned, seeing (Y/N) in the doorway, holding a steaming mug of pear tea. She wore a uniform similar to his, indicating they were part park ranger, part emergency rescue team. She smiled softly and handed it to him. “They said they had to take a different route around due to the avalanche. I guess it went farther than we thought.” 

Jack sipped the tea, letting the warmth infuse into his muscles. “Once we get these guys taken care of we’ll have to head back out, then. Try to take stock of any damage.” 

“The other teams have reported back already. Everyone’s been accounted for. Looks like your lot was in the worst shape. It’s a good thing they have you looking out for them, huh?” 

Jack looked away, rubbing the back of his head. “Well, we have a big team. Everyone’s doing their part.” 

“And you're the one who trained them. You’re the one who set up this whole search and rescue station. All those people there,” she waved in the direction of the treatment beds, the people pulled out of the snow, slowly warming themselves by the fireplace and with warm drinks. “Owe it all to you. You’re allowed to brag about it sometimes, you know.” 

Jack felt his face growing hot, tail starting to wag despite himself under her praise. “Well, maybe I just have a really good team.” 

(Y/N) hummed, standing on her tiptoes and reaching a hand up, threading through his short hair to pull his face down to her level. “And I wouldn’t want to be on any one else’s,” She murmured against his lips as they kissed. 

Ruggie

Politics were messy. Ruggie always knew that, but being here in the middle of it all showed him the full web of underhandedness, plotting, and secrets. But, as the Sunset Savannah’s royal family’s, or more directly Leona’s, personal spy master, that’s exactly what he was there for. 

Now, during his days at NRC, when Ruggie first started working as Leona’s unofficial personal assistant, lurking around, being a little more than underhanded in his dealings, did he ever expect he would one day be sneaking around an embassy in the middle of a grand party, planning on swiping some important documents that could reveal plots against the crown? No, of course not. But, man, was it still fun. 

As he slunk along the corridors, Ruggie eyed the attendance, each dripping with enough jewelry and finery to feed a family of four for a year. He inwardly sneered, hand shooting out to discreetly pocket a diamond bracelet some ambassador's wife, or more likely his mistress, was wearing.  But ill gotten treasure wasn’t what he was here for, at least, not today. 

Ruggie cut through a servant’s entrance, turning his coat inside out, turning it from red velvet of party goers to the matte black of the help. He thought it was too easy sometimes. People always saw what they wanted to see. Heading up to the upper floors of the embassy, he spied some hired goons waltzing around the room he needed to enter. Ruggie stayed as far back in the shadows as he could while tracking the one guard who stood a little too close to the stairs. 

“Laugh with me,” Ruggie murmured, casting his signature spell. He jerked his body to the side, causing the goon to stumble and crash down the stairs. To anyone else, it would have looked like he had too much to drink on the job, or had simply slipped. As the other guards were busy checking with their companion, Ruggie darted behind them, slipping into the room unseen. He made quick work, sniffing out the hidden safe, and picked the lock so easily he was almost afraid he was being set up. Securing the documents in the hidden pocket inside his jacket, Ruggie effortlessly slipped out the window, down the drive, and off into the night. 

Later that night, Ruggie shook off the rain as he stepped inside the lobby of Granny Bucchi’s Memorial Home for Lost Children. It was dark, everyone fast asleep upstairs. In the morning, all the children the Home housed would wake up, eat a hearty breakfast, one Ruggie could have only ever dreamed about at their age, and go to school in the attached building. Ruggie didn’t know exactly what strings Leona pulled to get such high class teachers for the Home, but he had learned long ago not to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

As Ruggie was about to head up the stairs to the caretaker's quarters, he noticed the lamp light coming from the side sitting room. Ruggie carefully stalked over to the other room, careful to avoid the floor boards that squeaked. He peered in, the warm light of a floor lamp illuminating (Y/N) on a rocking chair, a toddler hyena beastman fast asleep on her chest. Ruggie leaned against the doorframe, smiling gently at the domestic scene. 

(Y/N) stirred, af if sensing being watched. She blinked sleepily, smiling up at him. “Welcome home,” She whispered. “Everything go well?” 

(Y/N) knew just enough about Ruggie’s work, but never pried. They both knew well enough that Ruggie would immediately spill any secrets if she fluttered her eyelashes and gave him one of those sweet smiles. “Flawless, as usual.” He stepped forward, taking the small boy from her arms. His ears twitched as he was passed between them but stayed asleep. 

“He’s finally been sleeping through the night,” (Y/N) said. “But he had a nightmare earlier. He wanted to wait for you to get home.” 

“Aww, A for effort.” 

They walked upstairs to the children’s dormitory rooms, settling the small boy in his bed and tucking the blankets over him. 

“They’re having their field day tomorrow,” (Y/N) said as they entered their shared room. She sat on the bed as Ruggie kicked off his shoes. “Will you be here? The kids always love to see you.” 

He flopped down on the bed next to her with a sigh, arms behind his head.  “Wouldn’t miss it! It’s amazing how much energy those kiddos have. You think we were ever like that?” 

“Me? No, probably not. I can see you zipping around everywhere, though.” 

“Oh, yeah, I was fleet footed. You gotta be quick to pick pockets, you know.” She halfheartedly punched him as he snickered. 

“Do you ever think-?” She stared before cutting herself off. 

“Only sometimes,” He joked. “I hear it’s a dangerous habit.” He waited for a moment then asked, “Think about what?” 

(Y/N) looked back in the direction of the children’s dormitory, each level for a set of age groups from the babies all the way to the teenagers. “You know, about having our own.” 

Azul

Azul flitted around the room, jumping from conversation to conversion, getting just enough of a word in to be memorable, to make a good impression. So far, this, the grand opening of the Mostro Lounge, was a success. More than a success, it had drawn all ilk of upper crust society. Politicians, celebrities, heirs and heiresses with nothing better to do but try and get their picture in the next tabloid. Horderves were being passed, champagne was being popped, and, subtly, between it all, waiters were gathering secrets and snips of conversations from their patrons. 

The Monstro Lounge worked on two fronts, both carefully cultivated and maintained. The first was the face, the elegant restaurant and tea room that welcomed guests to treat them with all the luxury of the world. The second was more nefarious, the dagger hidden behind the back. Important clientele meant important discussions, important secrets, and important dealings. Whether or not these things were entirely legal didn’t much matter to Azul, just so long as he was in on them. 

It was important that at least most of their patrons didn’t notice the dagger. It was better for them to let their guard down, enjoy their night of revelry and relaxation. And Azul, with his charming smile, silver tongue, and perfectly business-like attitude, acted as the perfect cover. 

Azul was mingling with a group of bankers when he felt a gentle hand clasp his arm. “Excuse me,” (Y/N) said. “I’m afraid I need to steal my fiance for a moment.” The bankers held up their glasses in a cheers as she led him away. She glittered in a black sequin dress, pearls at her throat. On her hand was a delicate pearl and pink coral ring, the coral arranged like flower petals around the pearl. 

“Is anything wrong, angelfish?” Azul asked as they strolled through the lobby. 

(Y/N) hummed. “Maybe I just wanted some time with you. I’m allowed to be selfish like that every once and a while, aren't I?” 

“Of course. I think I like when you’re selfish.” 

An ignorant observer might have commented that (Y/N) made quite the trophy on Azul’s arm, but those in the know were quick to correct any misconceptions. (Y/N) was just in touch with both sides of the Monstro Lounge as Azul, just as involved. If any of Azul’s more unscrupulous dealings or shady past came up, it was easy for one to dismiss pressing concerns. After all, look at his soon-to-be wife! (Y/N) was more than capable of smoothing over any worries or uneasy feelings. And, possibly more importantly, keeping some of Azul’s more underhanded ambitions  in check. 

“Zuzu!” Azul nearly jumped out of his skin as he heard his mother’s voice. (Y/N) took a skilled step back to allow room for Mrs. Ashengrotto to envelope Azul in the kind of hug only a proud mother could give. Of course, the hug was missing a few limbs since Mrs. Ashengrotto was currently in human form, but it was still just as tight. She kissed both his cheeks and, while Azul was always happy to see his mother and show off his accomplishments, he couldn’t help but cringe at how the act tainted the elegant and stern reputation he was building for himself. Releasing him, she turned to her soon-to-be daughter-in-law. (Y/N) accepted her hug with a little more grace, the benefit of seeing an affectionate attack coming. 

Azul readjusted his glasses, greeting his mother and step-father. “I’m glad you both were able to make it.” 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” His step-father said, giving him a firm handshake and warm pat on the back. 

His mother had started to tear up, (Y/N) patting her hand sympathetically. “Oh, my. My little Azul, all grown up. I remember when you were just a little fry, darting in your octopot at anything. Look how big my boy has gotten! Have you been eating well, Zuzu? You look so thin!” 

“Why don’t we grab a table?” (Y/N) neatly interjected. Azul cast her a grateful look and quickly waved a waiter over who brought the small group to a VIP section. An aquarium that took up the entire back wall cast elegant blue light over the private section. 

After the waiter took their drink order, Mrs. Ashengrotto laid her hands flat on the table, looking seriously at Azul and (Y/N). “Now,” She said. “When can I expect grandchildren?” 

Jade

“Anglerfish,” (Y/N) said. 

Jade grinned, turning back to her as he held his lantern high. “What was that?” 

“Nothing, nothing at all.” 

Jade smiled, looked down at (Y/N) as she zipped their tent closed. The cool spring night air swirled around them, moon bright and sky clear. 

While Jade mostly lived in the Coral Sea, studying with his parents to prepare to take over the family business, part of his heart would always remain up in the mountains. He’d published a book last year, Roots of the Earth: Flora, Fauna, and Folklore of the Bald Mountains, which had become a bestseller almost overnight. In depth discussions and depictions of dry land environments were apparently pretty popular underwater. His publisher had been eager for a follow up. Which led him here, camping in the Mount Moln mountain range, ready to set off on an overnight exploration. 

He didn’t, however, expect certain company. Not that he minded (Y/N)’s presence. Quite the opposite in fact. 

While she hadn’t been an official member of the Mountain Lovers club back at NRC, she had participated in a few hiking trips, whenever her schedule, or Crowley, would allow. They hadn’t seen much of each other in person since Jade graduated, but they did exchange correspondence regularly. Jade knew that (Y/N) kept up with everyone from NRC in a similar fashion, but couldn’t help hoping that his particular letters were a little special. At least, the ones he sent back to her were. 

When Jade had arrived in Harveston the day before his expedition, he was surprised to see her with the lilac haired Felmier family. (Y/N) had cried in delight and thrown her arms around him, making his heart speed up in a not unpleasant way. Over tea, (Y/N) had told him that she had mostly been jumping around Twisted Wonderland, still trying to find a more permanent place in a land she wasn't native to. With the apple planting season coming up, Epel’s family had offered a position, one she had eagerly accepted. And, when he slyly implied that he would need assistance traversing the mountain and keeping track of his gear and research, she had enthusiastically agreed. They both decided to ignore the knowing glances from Grandma Felmier. 

They had risen before the sun that next morning, beginning their trek up Mount Moln. While the weather was defiantly warming, small clumps of snow still stubbornly clung on the higher they climbed. They’d made camp early, with the sun still up, digging into warm soup the Felmier’s had prepared for them, before turning in. They knew they would be getting up in the middle of the night, so they tried to get as much sleep as possible beforehand. 

Which brought them back to the present, Jade sweeping his lantern across the trail with (Y/N) staying close behind. 

“So,” (Y/N) said. “Remind me what we’re looking for?” 

“Panellus pusillus,” Jade said. “Otherwise known as the little ping-pong bat mushroom.” 

(Y/N) snorted a laugh. “That’s pretty cute.” 

“They are bioluminescent. During the day they look like normal white fan-like mushrooms. But at night they glow beautifully. They wrap around tree branches so they often look like string lights. I’ve been wanting to take back a few samples for my project back in the Coral Sea.” 

“For your next book?” 

“That, and something else. I’ve been working on an underwater biome meant to replicate various ecosystems from the mountains I’ve traversed here on land. It would allow sea-dwellers a chance to experience environments they normally wouldn’t be exposed to. I’m still gathering funds, but I think it will be a fascinating experiment when completed.” 

“Sounds like a big undertaking.” 

“Definitely.” Jade cast a glance over his shoulder, meeting (Y/N)’s eyes. He quickly looked away again, holding the lantern out a little farther so (Y/N) wouldn’t notice the red tint to his cheeks. He only ever had to worry about that in human form. “I’ve actually been gathering a team to help me set everything up. Having someone native to land would provide a unique perspective. If you would be interested, after your work in the orchards here. I wouldn’t want to impose on any previous commitments.” 

“I don’t think you could impose on me even if you wanted to.” Jade stopped, turning around to fully face her. He watched (Y/N) gulp, readying herself, before she took a step forward. They were just a breath apart from each other now. Her hand reached out, stopping between them. “I - I’ve really missed you. I didn’t expect to this much, but then you showed back up and it kind of punched me in the gut all at once. Sorry, I feel like I’m not saying this the right way. But… I really missed you.” 

Jade let the silence sink in as his thoughts turned in his head. Crickets, owls, and other night creatures filled the air with their songs. (Y/N) looked down, shuffling her feet. Jade transferred his lantern to his other hand, reaching forward and taking hers. 

“My,” He said with a teasing grin. “This is certainly unexpected. Not unwelcome, of course. What would you do if I said I harbored similar feelings?” 

Underneath the soft glow of mushrooms overhead, (Y/N) stood on her toes and kissed him. 

Floyd

Suffice to say, most people were pretty surprised when Floyd decided to take an engineering course for the first leg of his NRC 4th year internship. With his happy-go-lucky and action-first personality, it was easy to forget that he was surprisingly good with technical skills. Even still, most people assumed he would get bored soon, skipping off to a more physically exciting internship for the next quarter. However, he stayed for the entire year. It definitely helped that the particular engineers he had partnered with specialized in roller coasters. 

And now, here he was, standing in the middle of a brand new theme park just a few weeks away from opening. When he had first approached Kalim for funding for his dream project he hadn’t expected much resistance. After all, both boys could appreciate a good time, whether from an over-the-top party or an exhilarating thrill ride. 

Floyd’s specific idea was for a theme park both land dwellers and merpeople could enjoy simultaneously. This led to the unique structure of Marine Canyon. The theme park was nestled perfectly in a natural canyon carved out thousands of years ago by glaciers. A slim river still ran through the canyon. Half the park was located in the canyon while the second half descended underneath the water of the sea the river emptied in. Guests would be able to easily traverse either side, either by assistance of underwater breathing potions, temporary form transformation potions, or a clever half-scuba half-submersible vehicle Floyd had designed when (Y/N) first met his parents.  

He stood with his hands on his hips, watching the cars roll along the track of one of the premier coasters in a test run. Everything was going perfectly. In a few days, Kalim would be coming out for the last run-through of testing and they would launch for a media day before officially opening the park. 

“Papa!” 

Floyd turned, wide smile getting even bigger. He crouched down, opening his arms, as one of his sons rushed to meet him. He swept Argonaut up in his arms, spinning him around as the boy cackled. He threw his arms around Floyd’s neck, waving at the two others approaching. (Y/N) waved back, walking over with their other son, Caspian. 

“Do we get to ride it now, Papa? Can we, can we?” Argo asked giddy, bouncing up and down. 

Cas cast a wary look up at the empty car plunging down the coaster track. “Can we go in the dark ride first? The pirate one?” 

Floyd ruffled his hair as (Y/N) answered, “We still have to wait for the safety checks to make sure everything is working properly.” 

“But,” Floyd told the twins. “The water park part is ready! And we need testers to make sure it’s fun for humans and mers. Do you know anyone who could help me with that?” 

“Me, me, me!” 

“We can do that! We’re human and mer!” 

The boys wiggled their ways out of their parents arms and dashed off, already kicking off their shoes in anticipation for changing from their dry land form to their eel-mer hybrid form. 

“Be careful running!” (Y/N) called after them. She sighed as Floyd came over, wrapping her in a backwards hug and resting his chin on the top of her head. “They really do like going between the land and sea. Do you think they have a favorite form?” 

Floyd hummed. “Don’t know. I like both of them. It’s just all different, you know? But they can use both their forms here. They can be with all their family and friends at the same time.” 

“Is that why you wanted to build it like this? You’re really kind, aren’t you?” 

Floyd grinned. “Only for Shrimpy and the guppies. Don’t let anyone else know, okay? I still have a reputation, you know.” 

(Y/N) poked his side. “Ooh, scary Floyd Leech, big bad family man. Don’t think I don’t remember you crying on the boys’ first day of school.” 

Floyd sniffed. “My guppies aren’t going to be guppies any more! What am I going to do when they get too big to carry, or when they go to NRC and we can’t see them everyday?” 

(Y/N) took his hand and started pulling him in the direction the boys had darted off in. “Then I guess we just need to make the most of the time we have with them now, right?” 

Floyd tightened his grip on her hand, smiling wickedly. “Or we could just make more guppies.”  

Kalim

“Mr. Al–Asim, I need your signature here, please.” 

“Mr. Al-Asim, when would you like to schedule our shareholder meeting?” 

“Mr. Al-Asim, I have those reports and next quarter’s budget for you to review.” 

Kalim was drained. While he was more than proud that he had managed to expand his family’s business to not only the sea but also the Briar Valley, he didn’t quite anticipate all the paperwork that would come with it. Now that Jamil was off leading his own life outside of the Asim influence, Kalim had taken on more responsibilities. Not that he wasn’t happy for Jamil, of course. He was thrilled when his friend told him of his plans after graduating NRC, even if those plans didn’t directly involve Kalim. Kalim was mostly just happy that Jamil seemed happy. But he did still miss Jamil’s presence, his guidance, how he always knew what to say. 

Kalim groaned, falling face first on his bed, not bothering to change clothes. Warm evening sun streamed in from the balcony windows, casting golden rays across the room. (Y/N) blinked at him from her side of the bed, sliding a bookmark in her book. She leaned over to him, gently petting his hair. 

“Rough day?” She asked. 

Kalim groaned again, twisting to catch (Y/N) in his arms so they crashed down together in a tangled hug. “There’s so much paperwork!” He lamented. “Why do we still even have so much paper? Isn’t it better for the environment if we use digital or something?” He sniffed, eyes watery. “Just think of all those birds whose trees we cut down.” 

“With great accomplishment comes great busy work,” (Y/N) nodded sagely. “It just shows how much so many people are relying on you.” 

“I guess,” Kamil muttered into her hair. He suddenly perked up. “Oh! I own the company, so maybe I can just tell everyone they have the day off tomorrow!” 

“Maybe, but then you and everyone else would just have a backlog of work when they come back.” 

Kalim face planted back onto the bed. (Y/N) regarded him for a moment before sliding out of bed. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.” Kalim gave a half-hearted thumbs up. 

As (Y/N) padded out of the room, Kalim kicked his shoes off, curling up on the bed. He grabbed her plush pillow, holding it to his chest. Hints of her fragrant shampoo still clung to it. 

Kalim didn’t think he could ever really express how grateful he was to have (Y/N) with him. Not only had she worked hard to repair his and Jamil’s relationship at NRC, but she gave him the in that helped him bring the Asim name to the Briar Valley in the first place. The land of night fairies was notoriously difficult to expand foreign trade to. But (Y/N) with her easy way of making friends and stubborn determination had given him the connections he needed to do something no other Asim had. He signed again, happily this time. It was just another reason he was so glad that she was going to marry him. 

(Y/N) nudged the door open with her hip. She carried a large silver tray holding a pot of spiced hot chocolate and several small plates with cake slices. “We still need to choose a wedding cake flavor,” She said. “Your mom has been asking me about finalizing details. We’re going to look at takchitas this weekend.” 

Kalim popped back up, a wave of fresh energy zipping through him. A party! This he could do. Not just any party, but possibly the most important party of his life! He and (Y/N) spent the next hour discussing wedding plans, colors and flowers and music. In between, they would eat bites of cake, chocolate, champagne strawberry, vanilla with raspberry filling, orange olive oil. At one point, Kalim smeared some frosting on his nose. At  her laughing, Kalim took a forkful of fluffy buttercream and painted it across her nose. They collapsed together in a giggling fit. 

“How about I come with you tomorrow?” (Y/N) asked. “I should start learning everything anyway. I want to be helpful to you.”

“You’re always helpful! Look, I'm feeling way better already!” 

“I think that might be the sugar rush.” 

As the sun set, the two of them lay together, crumbs of cake and the empty chocolate pot soon forgotten. As (Y/N) fell asleep in Kalim’s arms, he quietly said, “I can’t wait to be married to you, azizati.” 

Jamil

The air conditioning in the dance studio had gone out a few days ago and it quickly became sweltering with the aerobic activity. (Y/N) had drug in a large swiveling electric fan at some point that was working overtime to try and cool the room. Jamil whipped sweat off his forehead, watching the soon to debut idol group run through their routine again. Jamil had been working as the lead choreographer for Corona Talent for about a year now. While the agency was still relatively small, they were picking up preeminence, especially with their stylized music videos. 

“Figaro,” Jamil said to a cat beastman with black and white hair. “You need to work on controlling your tail. Having it flick around like that makes you look nervous. Sebastian, I know you’re still getting used to your land legs but remember to not lock up your knees, it makes you jerk and you’re more likely to fall. Let’s go back to just before the switch line and take it again.” 

While Jamil’s teaching style could easily be described as strict, no one could deny his results and the quick time in which he produced them. 

A little while later, and combating fears of overheating, Jamil called a water break. The group of boys formed a semicircle around the fan waiting for it to oscillate over their faces. Jamil watched them chat in benign amusement. They were about as old as he had been during the Song and Dance Championship at NRC. Jamil would never admit it, but he had recycled some of Vil’s methods during their training in the Ramshackle dorm. 

And speaking of NRC, his phone pinged. Jamil knew who it was before he even looked at the screen. 

Kalim: Jamil! I had an idea for the wedding! What if we have a grand entrance with you riding an elephant? 

Jamil: You know (Y/N) and I aren’t even engaged yet. 

Kalim: I’m planning ahead! It’s good to be ready. 

Jamil: No elephants. 

Kalim: What about peacocks? Or birds that warble on key? Or a tiger! 

Jamil: Do I even want to know where you’re getting these animals? 

Kalim: ~Secret~ 

Jamil laughed under his breath. Ever since he and (Y/N) had started dating during her last year at NRC, Kalim had basically been planning their wedding. When he had given Jamil two tickets on a week-long river cruise for his birthday last year he had called it a pre-honeymoon. 

And speaking of…

Jamil’s phone pinged again with a video attachment from (Y/N). The video showed (Y/N) next to a perch with a red and green macaw parrot. “Come on, Alfie,” (Y/N) prompted. “Show Dad your new trick.” 

The parrot tilted his head to think for a moment before tilting to the side and raising a claw in a wave. “Love Dad!” It croaked. He then started vocalizing to the tune of one of the first songs Jamil choreographed for, bobbing his head and side stepping. (Y/N) hummed along, nodding encouragingly. The macaw stretched his wings wide and gave a victorious cry. 

“Good job, Alfie!” (Y/N) praised, giving him a treat. Alfie shuffled onto her shoulder, nibbling the treat. “See you soon, Jamil. Love you.” (Y/N) blew a kiss to the screen, Alfie mimicking the sound. The video ended on a still frame of (Y/N)’s smiling face. Jamile smiled, content. Warmth, having nothing to do with the heat of the studio, filling his chest. 

“Ooh,” One of the idol’s said, wiggling his eyebrows in Jamil’s direction. “Was that your girlfriend, Coach?” The other boys cooed and whooping in good natured teasing. 

“Alright, Sven,” Jamil said, standing back up. “You just earned everyone another round of drills. Come on, on your marks.” 

The boys groaned, taking their places. As they began stretching and doing calf raises, Jamil texted Kalim. 

Jamil: Do you still have that jeweler’s number? 

Kalim: :D

Vil

Vil double checked his lipstick in a compact mirror from the backseat of the limo. His eyes cut across the back cab to (Y/N) fiddling with the hem of her dress. “Stop fidgeting,” He said. “You’ll wrinkle your dress.” 

(Y/N) jumped, smoothing her dress. “Sorry, just nervous, I guess.” 

“Nerves cause wrinkles, too. Besides, there’s nothing to fret over. Star Crossed is destined to be a hit.” 

Star Crossed was to be Vil’s first directorial debut, with (Y/N) taking a lead writing role for the script. The idea had come when the two had been discussing media back from (Y/N)’s world during one of Vil’s photoshoots. (Y/N) had been acting as somewhat of an unofficial assistant then. Although, and Vil would never admit this, he more just wanted an excuse to have her around. As they talked, (Y/N) made references to classic story ideas shared between both worlds, focusing on ideas of forbidden love. She gave a lyrical and poetic soliloquy, one that Vil immediately latched on to. She explained it was from a play called Romeo and Juliet, one of the most famous plays in her world and a story that had been retold countless times. She said it was standard school curriculum in her world and had memorized several passages for homework. Canceling the very hard to get dinner reservations the two had, they instead worked deep into the night, reworking the romantic tragedy between their two world’s cultural differences, writing the first draft of what would end up becoming Star Crossed. 

“What if they don’t like the ending?” (Y/N) worried. 

“Then they’re fools with no sense of depth.” 

“But won’t that look bad for you? I don’t want a box office bomb to affect your career.” 

“I assure you, nothing I’m associated with could bomb.” Although Vil wasn’t in the starring role for this film, instead preferring to focus on directing, he did keep a cameo as the rewritten Prince of Veronia, now the Prince of Fleur City. 

“We kept a lot of the traditional language,” (Y/N) continued as if she hadn’t heard Vil. She looked out the window, the tall buildings and bustling crowds as they got closer to the theater. “Not word for word of the monologue, but still. You don’t think it was too old-fashioned or metaphorical?”

“Sweet potato, we’re going to the premier, you know. It’s a little late to be thinking about rewrites.” 

(Y/N) sighed again, flattening her hands against her lap. “Yeah, you're right. The costumes were amazing, though.” 

“That’s thanks to you as well, you know. Professor Crewel wouldn’t be willing to design for just anyone.” 

(Y/N) smiled weakly. She fidgeted in her seat. She switched sides to sit next to Vil instead of across from him. He raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow but didn’t say anything. 

“Vil,” She said, choosing her words carefully. “I really liked working with you on this.” 

“Well, you’re not the worst person to collaborate with either, (Y/N).” 

“Would you want to, I mean, maybe later if you don’t have other projects already lined up, do you want to work together again? I mean, there’s a ton of Shakespeare plays. I don’t know all of them by heart or anything, but I know a good couple. Hamlet is dramatic with political intrigue, Much Ado About Nothing is a romantic comedy, A Midsummer Night’s Dream is another romantic comedy with magic and everyone falling in love with the wrong person, well, that one has fairies so I don’t want to offend anyone or anything, oh, and Macbeth is all dark about going mad with power - people said it was cursed back in my world even if we didn’t have real curses, it was just something people said, you know, but I was also thinking maybe we could do others like Pride and Prejudice or if you want to do something completely different there’s this series called Star Wars that-” 

Vil abruptly cut off (Y/N)’s ramblings with a kiss. There, in the back of the limo, it was just the two of them, alone in the world. No fans, no expectations, no competitions. Just them, and a warm growing feeling between them. 

Vil pulled back, taking a moment to appreciate (Y/N)’s dazed face and bewildered smile. “I would love to work with you again, (Y/N). I’m not sure I would ever want to work with anyone else. Come, we’re here.” 

An attendant opened the door of their limo, the roar of fans and flashing lights breaking the stillness on the cab. Vil stepped out in one graceful movement, lifting a hand in greeting. A red carpet stretched out before them, littered with other actors from the movie or celebrities there to give support. Vil leaned back, offering (Y/N) his hand. She stepped out of the cab, blinking at the sudden lights.

Vil tucked her arm through his, whispering, “Stick with me. I’m certain we can get through anything together.” 

Rook

Rook flicked on his flashlight, illuminating the cavernous chamber. His team of archaeologists and researchers followed behind him, sliding down a rope through a ventilation shaft into the long buried and forgotten temple underneath an old gnarled tree. 

“Is it what you thought it was, Hunt?” A fellow archaeologist asked him, shining her own light around the foreboding space. 

“I’m not sure yet,” He replied. “But I think… Ah ha!” Rook cheered, bounding over to the far wall. He took out his magical pen, casting a fire spell into a trough of dark liquid that ran the perimeter of the chamber. It caught alight, flooding the room to showcase the detailed carvings and relief work decorated on the walls. The team gasped, immediately taking detailed notes of the pictographs and images. Carvings of mermaids in a grotto, a pirate ship looming off the coast of a tropical island, and what appeared to be a flying boy with his arms outstretched were just a few of the designs that had been painted and carved on the walls millennium ago. 

“Magnifique!” Rook breathed in awe. “The Temple of the Second Star! Just as we thought!” 

“Just as you thought, sir,” A stoat beast-man researched said. “Your instincts were spot on again.” 

Rook preened but brushed off the comment. “Non, non, we’ve all put so much work into this discovery. You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished, n’est-ce pas? But, we’ve only begun our exploration. There’s something very important here I need to find.” 

“Is that safe, sir?” The archaeologist asked him. “We haven’t mapped anything out yet, who knows what it’s like down there?” She nodded her head to a dark doorway leading further into the temple. 

“Ah, but what is our profession without the allure of danger? Allons-y!” Leaving the others to their detail oriented inspection, Rook bound down the adjoining hall into the depths of the temple. 

Rook traveled down the halls, stopping only briefly to poke his head in adjoining rooms, none of which held what he was looking for. He paused every so often, checking a trap or pitfall that had been left how many hundreds of years ago. Finally, he came to a split in the corridors. 

“Hmm,” He muttered to himself. “I believe it was… Second star to the right.” He chose the right passage. 

The passage led him to a large stone door, once more inlaid with gem studded pictographs. “Ah,” he said. “A clever lock. Let’s see if I’m more clever.” He looked closely at the depictions. A group of four children flying over a cityscape, a towering clock with a large round face, a sun and moon arranged on either side, and, of course, the signature stars. He noticed several of the gem motifs could be moved. He suspected the right one would unlock the door, while the others might lead to disaster. And, as thrilled as he was to see what kind of disaster it could be, he was on a mission. “Second star to the right,” He said to himself again. “And straight on till morning!” He adjusted the hour hand on the clock face, changing it from pointing at the moon to the sun. A mechanism groaned and the door slowly fell open. 

He swished his flashlights around the chamber. It was littered with jars upon jars on a sparkling yellow dust. He tapped the glass on one of the jars, feeling lighter, his hair floating around him. And, while this was a fascinating discovery, and he would definitely have to report back to the Roi de Dragons that their study of ancient fairy lore had been a success, there was something more valuable than pixie dust he was after. There, in the center of the room, was exactly what he was looking for. An acorn and thimble dangling off a delicate chain - the ancient symbols of a pure kiss. 

As Rook turned to confront the mechanical crocodile that had emerged from its hiding place, a clock ticking in its chest, he tucked the treasure into his pocket. He shrugged his bow from his shoulder, knocking an arrow, thinking about how beautiful the necklace would look on (Y/N) when he proposed to her. 

Epel

Epel undid his tie for the third time. Nothing was looking right. Should he keep his hair up like this, in a high ponytail that cascaded down his back? Was his suit not fitting right, stretching over muscles he had worked so hard for so long for? 

That was one thing directors loved about him, how he could flip from appearing sweet and docile to ablaze with righteous fury in a second. It helped boost his popularity at the box office, his latest action movie breaking records. But that limelight also came with its drawbacks. Like how today, possibly one of the most important days of his entire life, Epel had been distracted with checking with security at every odd occurrence. They had already kicked out a couple of unscrupulous paparazzi the other day. Epel was glad he was back in Harveston for something so monumental, surrounded by his family, but he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty at the strain he was putting them all through. But they would always wave him off with smiles, saying that it was the least they could do for all the publicity he had brought to their farms. And besides, what was family for, if not to lend a hand on your wedding day? 

There was a knock and the door opened before Epel could reply. Vil stepped in, checking a clipboard with a meticulously maintained schedule. “The cake finally got here, thank the Seven,” he said. “Everyone’s taking their seat. I knew people would be late - that’s why you put the ceremony time on the invitation a half hour before you actually want it to start. Now we just need to-” He stopped, looking up, and glared at the cloth around Epel’s neck like he had glared at Epel himself so many times during their NRC days. Vil sighed, setting the clipboard down and pulling at Epel’s tie. “Honestly, have none of my lessons stuck with you?” 

Epel felt a momentary sense of pride against the scolding as Vil had to look up to speak with him. “Nothing looked right,” He said. “I wanted it to, you know, look right.” 

Vil hummed. “Are you sure that’s what this is about?” Epel didn’t reply. “You’re not getting cold feet, are you? I’ve never known you to be one who runs away from problems.” 

“No, never!” 

Vil gave a final tug on the eldredge knot. “Well, that’s the only thing that matters, isn’t  it?” He gave one of his rare sincere smiles. “And she chose you, Epel. Remember that.” 

Epel shrugged. “It’s a lot to live up to.” 

“And you’ll rush to meet those expectations with flying colors. Now hurry up, we have a schedule to keep.” 

They had set the ceremony space in the middle of the apple orchard. Soft pink apple blossom petals swirled around the air, beautiful organic confetti cascading over each guest as they took their seat in the circular audience. Epel looked around, smiling back at friends and family beaming at him. His mother hadn’t stopped crying happy tears since before breakfast that morning. His grandmother reached out and squeezed his hand as he walked past. 

A group of local boys had been recruited to play music for the wedding. As Epel took his spot under the flowery arch up front, they began playing. Epel felt his heart thundering in his chest, jumping like a jackrabbit. He felt more nervous now than he did at his first premier. 

Everyone stood, looking towards the back of the aisle as the bride started to walk down, billowing white dress, cascading flower bouquet, lace veil covering her face. It felt like forever, Epel transfixed. She stepped up to the alter and Epel gently lifted the veil away from her face. (Y/N) smiled up at him. 

“Dearly beloved,” The officiant started. Before he could get another word in, Epel surged forward, kissing his bride. (Y/N) started laughing, wrapping her arms around him to return the kiss. 

“Hey!” Vil called jovially from the crowd. “You’re ahead of schedule!”  

Idia

Idia was curled  up on the couch, the room dark, light from the three computer screens in front of him illuminating the space and searing his eyes. He chewed on his bottom lip, writing code only to immediately delete it. 

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. Blinking away dark spots in his vision, he glanced over at the left computer screen where he had taped a photo of Ortho and their parents. Ortho was wearing a director’s coat, showing off for the camera. Idia smiled, straightening the photo. At the time, when Ortho had volunteered for the position of S.T.Y.X. junior director in Idia’s place, Idia didn’t expect the rush of relief that swept through him. It had been about a year so far and the two brothers talked almost every night, Ortho regaling him with stories of new advancements and studies they had made, his enthusiasm peaked in every word. 

But what Idia hadn’t expected was the sudden sense of helplessness, like he’d been cut free of some invisible tether. He’d just hang around for a while, working in this tech company, that cyber security industry, before he got bored. He was able to improve every company by leaps and bounds before deciding to drop it and head somewhere else whenever the mood took him. A few military weapons companies had tried to recruit him, but he’d swiftly rejected their offers. 

Eventually, a small group of eager indie video game developers had reached out in an email he had almost deleted without reading. He knew a few of the names from discussion boards on Star Rogue fan sites. They asked if he had wanted to join them for a new project and, having nothing else pressingly important going on, he’d agreed. Soon, however, he’d found himself absolutely engrossed with the game, bringing in more money and resources than any of the other teams members had ever seen for a similar project. 

And now, here he was. Stuck. The team couldn’t figure out their next steps, couldn’t solve problems with the set up and coding. They had hit a wall. Idia had hit a wall. 

He heard movement from the bed behind him, a sigh of someone waking up. “Idia?” A sleep addled voice called. He didn’t move, fingers clacking on the keyboard. He heard movement behind him, getting out of bed and dragging the blankets with them. 

(Y/N) tumbled onto the couch next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. “You said you were going to come to bed like,” She squinted at the clock. “Four hours ago. Idia! You need sleep!” 

“Want to get this done,” He mumbled back. 

“It’ll still be there in the morning.” 

“I have to work on it now or I’ll lose momentum.” 

“You’ll lose your eyes if you keep working in the dark like this. And I like your eyes. And your hair. And your smile. And your-” 

“This code is a total mess. It’s full of redundancies. There’s an explote here that would basically make you able to walk through any wall no problem. And they’re focused too much on feature creep, it’s like they want to add a cool new gimmick every day. Like, yeah, connecting to the microphone during the stealth section so if the player is loud the enemies can find them easier is cool, but it’s only in that one part of the game and it’s making a whole bunch of unnecessary complications. Or there’s this part with the poisoning spell basically breaks the game if you unlock it too early. Or this part with the character modeling where-” 

“Idia!” Idia startled, blinking at (Y/N). “Your girlfriend is asking you to come to bed with her.” 

Idia’s hair immediately burned bright pink. “Oh, yeah, okay.” 

Silver

Silver rolled his shoulders, adjusting the weight of his heavy armor. He was in a tent, getting ready for his bout of jousting for an annual tournament in the Briar Valley. This wasn’t the first tournament he’d participated in, of course, but there was always a nervousness that built up in his stomach, an eagerness to prove himself as worthy of being Malleus’s retainer, Lillia’s son, a loyal knight of the fae kingdom. 

“Knock, knock.” He turned to the front flaps of the tent. (Y/N) pulled aside one of the flaps, sticking her head inside. “Sorry, there’s not really a place to actually knock or ring a bell or anything…” She cleared her throat, stepping inside. She wore a traditional Briar Valley dress. “Wow,” She breathed, taking in Silver in his armor. “You look like a real knight! Not that you aren’t, usually, I mean. It’s just really formal now I guess. I’ve been able to see everything from up in the royal viewing box with Hornton and Lillia. It’s great watching you and Sebek, competing and everything. It’s like a whole Renaissance fair out there.” 

Silver set down his helmet. “Is that something from your world?”

She nodded. “I’ll have to tell you about it some time. They were always fun.” She looked away nervously, trying to find the right words to say. “There was this kind of tradition, at the Renaissance fairs, for knights. I think it went back to medieval history in my world. I was hoping you could help me with it.” 

“Of course,” Silver said. He took a step forward, closing the distance between them, gently reaching out to take her elbow and turn her back to him. They were so close their bodies nearly brushed each other. “Whatever you need.” 

She hesitated for another second before reaching up and pulling a ribbon out of her hair. He noticed it was (favorite color) instead of a matching shade to her outfit. “When knights would go for tournaments, they would wear a token or flag from their partner. It’s for good luck or something.” She twisted the ribbon around her fingers, not meeting his eyes. “I was hoping…” 

Silver untangled the ribbon from her hands, tying it around his forearm. He felt a swell of pride at how it stood out from his armor, gently waving in the breeze. “I’d be honored,” He said. “To wear your token.” 

(Y/N)’s eyes lit up, a smile blossoming on her face. “Okay, yeah, sure, of course! I’m glad you like it.” She pressed her lips together, considering something, before adding. “Would it be okay if I gave you another token? For good luck. Not that you need it or anything, you’re going to be great.” 

Silver smiled at her nervous deflection. “I’d love anything from you.” 

(Y/N) looked around nervously again, fiddling with her fingers. Just as Silver was about to speak, she reached up, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, and pulled him down for a kiss. 

Lilia

Lilia leaned against the railing of the barge, watching the glowing red lanterns float gently above the river, their reflections casting ruby ghosts against the dark water below. The Floating Lantern Festival in the Land of Red Dragons never failed to excite, but this year was especially memorable. 

“It’s even more beautiful that you describe it,” (Y/N) breathed in awe next to him, stretching out over the barge railing to take in every sight and sound around them. Her eyes trailed the parade along the banks of the river, party goers dressed in red hanfu carrying more lanterns and a long red paper dragon on tall sticks. 

“The best stories are the ones you experience in person,” He said. 

They’d been traveling together for a while now, by boat, by train, on foot, exploring the whole world. (Y/N) had always been bothered that she had no frame of reference for the world of Twisted Wonderland, no practical understanding of its cultures and countries. Lilia tried to alleviate some of her frustrations with stories about his numerous travels before finally deciding a more hands-on presentation would be a better fit. 

Lilia snuck up behind her as she marveled at the lanterns drifting into the night sky. He suddenly grabbed her shoulders, as if to push her off. She gasped and turned to give him a halfhearted glare as he laughed. 

“Well?” Lilia asked. “Do you feel more prepared to conquer the world now?” 

(Y/N) frowned. The Land of Red Dragons was meant to be the last stop on their tour. (Y/N) had said she had no real plan for after the journey. While the multitude of friends she had made during her years in school were more than happy to lend her a place to stay during their travels, (Y/N) had confided in Lilia that she felt like she was taking advantage of their good nature if she lingered to long, without finding work or direction in this strange world. Maybe she would return to NRC to see if Crowley had any work for her? (He always did.) 

“I mean, I suppose?” She said. “Everything has been so wonderful. It’s almost a shame to be stuck in one place after all this.” She gave a mirthless laugh. “I can see why you like moving around so much.” 

Lilia hummed, leaning back against the railing. He turned, considering (Y/N)’s profile, lit against the red glow of the lanterns. He felt himself pause, lost in the marvel of her eyes, full of delight and wonder at everything around them. There was a strange stirring in his chest, one he had experienced multiple times over their journey together, a feeling he hadn’t had in almost 500 years. 

Lilia shook his head, trying to reign his focus back in. “You know,” He said, casually. “I’ll be heading back out again soon. Malleus came up with the idea of sending out ambassadors from the Briar Valley, trying to strengthen relationships between fairies and the rest of the world.” 

(Y/N) nodded. “That seems like something he would do. You’re going to be the first one, then? It seems like a good job for you.” 

“Not necessarily the first.” (Y/N) turned to look at him and Lilia felt himself squirm under her direct gaze. Goodness, he would have thought he was a lovestruck teen of 200 years by the way he was acting. “I proposed that you should join me as an ambassador. I thought it might make things easier, having a fellow human to represent dual interests. And, I must admit,” He purposely looked away. “I’ve grown fond of our time together.” 

When (Y/N) didn’t reply he looked back at her. She was smiling up at him and he felt his heart stutter. “I’d like that a lot,” She finally said. Which part she didn’t specify. He didn’t need her to. 

As they watched the lantern festival continue around them, their hands slid together on the railing, fingers entwining.  

Sebek

Sebek’s heart was beating a mile a minute. He knelt in front of Malleus, in the grand throne room, crowds of nobles eagerly watching his knighting ceremony.  

Malleus, regal sword in hand, stood over him. “Sebek Zigvolt,” He said, voice echoing around the chamber. “Do you so solemnly swear to uphold the code of knightly honor, to defend the Briar Valley with all your might, your will, and your faithfulness?” “I do,” Sebek replied, trying to keep his voice to a reasonable volume, not letting his giddiness shine through. 

“Do you so solemnly swear to serve your king and country and never waver from your duty?” 

“I do.” 

“And do you so solemnly swear to be truthful to yourself, loyal to your loved ones, and show bravery in the face of doubt and fear?”

“I do!” 

Malleus smiled down at his friend, pride for his retainer crinkling the corners of his eyes.  “Then, as rightful king and ruler of the land of night fae and the Briar Valley, I hereby dub thee, Sebek Zigvolt, high knight and warrior to the crown.” Malleus lowered his sword against Sebek’s shoulders and the crown of his head. “Stand and receive your blessing.” 

Sebek stood, fist thumbing against his chest. Cheers started up from the assembly. Happy tears pricked the corners of Sebek’s eyes, his smile wide as he tried to keep a serious face for the occasion. 

After the ceremony, everyone congregated in one of the grand ballrooms of the palace. Sebek stood with his mother, father, and grandfather. His mother was flitting over him, brushing away an invisible speck of dust every other second. 

“My darling boy!” She cried. “Look how big you’ve gotten! Oh, you’re so official now! Dear, what happened to our little Sebek?” 

“You’ve done a lot of hard work, Sebek,” He father said, nodding proudly. “You should be proud of everything you’ve accomplished.” 

“Of course he’s proud,” His grandfather scoffed. “He’s a Zigvolt! Greatness and duty is embedded in our history!” 

His mother rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes, Papa, so you’ve said many times.” Her eyes cut behind Sebek, smiling and taking hold of either of the two men’s arms. “Well, we wouldn’t want to monopolize your time, Sebek. There are many people who want to congratulate you, after all. Come along, dear, Papa!” Ignoring their protests, his mother dragged them away. 

As Sebek waved in a confused good-bye, he felt a thump on his back. “Look at you!” He heard a familiar voice say. “So do I have to call you Sir Zigvolt now or something?” Sebek turned to see (Y/N) beaming up at him. It was surprising enough to see her here, but Sebek’s breath caught in his throat as he saw her dress. Zigvolt colors. She was wearing Zigvolt house colors. 

“H-hum- Er, (Y/N)? What are you doing here?” 

“Horton invited me! Or, I guess I should say King Malleus here, shouldn’t I? Well, either way, he told me you were having your official knighting ceremony. And I got a letter from your mom, too! She thought it would be a fun surprise to have your friends from school show up to support you.” She indicated one of the banquet tables across the room. Sebek saw Grim, Ace, Deuce, Jack, Ortho, and Epel milling around, all dressed in their own formal wear, catching questioning glances from the various fae knights and nobles. 

But they weren’t wearing his house colors. So why was she? And why did it make his heart thrum like that? 

A band started up, couples taking their places along the dance floor. “Ah, would  you…?” Sebek felt like he could’t find the right words. He couldn’t understand why he was suddenly falling all over himself like this. 

(Y/N) clasped his hands in hers. “I’d love to dance! I might not know all the steps, since this seems pretty fancy and formal, but you’ll just have to show me, okay?” Sebek nodded stiffly as she pulled him to the dance floor. 

Sebek took one of her hands in his, his other settling on her waist. He felt it burn with the contact. As he swept her along the floor, he finally said, “Your dress…” But couldn’t manage to finish, his thoughts tumbling around. Had it really been so long since graduation? Since he had last seen her? Sure, they had written multiple times, he kept up correspondence with many NRC alumni, but how had she changed this much since then? Had her eyes always shined that way? Was her hair that beautiful? Was her smile that dazzling? 

“Oh, your mom lent it to me,” She said. “I didn’t have anything that would fit, so she lent me one of her old ones. Although with all the adjustments I think it might just be mine now. Do you like it?” 

“You look like a Zigvolt,” He said. 

“Oh.” She seemed surprised at that, heat rising to her face. They turned around the floor a few more times. “You know, you’ll be seeing a lot more of me soon.”

Sebek felt his heart flip. “I’ll have to put up with you more, you mean.” 

(Y/N) stifled a laugh and gently hit his chest. “Rude. I mean Horton offered me a position here. Ambassador for human and fairy relations. I’m not totally sure what it will be like next, but he’s given me a townhouse just next door. It’s near your parents, I think. So, you know, I’ll be around. If you ever want to see me or anything. Or I guess if I want to see you, I’ll know where to come to bug you.” She laughed awkwardly. 

Sebek unconsciously tightened his grip on her hand. “I think I wouldn’t mind that. It’s a knight’s duty to look after those he cares about, after all.” 

Malleus 

Malleus turned over in his bed, hands crumpling the sheets next to him. He was in his chambers back in the palace in the Briar Valley. The bed next to him was cold. Cool dawn light was just beginning to spill through his window behind the heavy velvet curtains. 

The dreaming Malleus, the one all too aware this was a premonition of a possible future, sighed. He had completed this potion many times, both at NRC and in his private education in the Briar Valley. And, no matter how many times he drunk the noctious concoction, his future always remained the same. A lonely bedchamber, government work, fawning lords and ladies vying for his favor. If he was lucky, he would get to interact with Lilia, Silver, or Sebek. Although he dreaded the times when he could clearly see age lining their faces while he remained the same. 

The door to his chamber creaked ever so slightly. Someone was entering. The dream Malleus, the one projected in this future vision, tensed in his bed. The dreaming Malleus, forced to watch everything unfurl, was confused. Was this some sort of half-baked assassination attempt? Had relations between the country of fae and the rest of the world degraded to such an extent under his reign? Was he destanted to watch his own death? 

The dream Malleus closed his eyes. There was a sound of soft padding feet, a giggle, then a sharp hush. The intruders were right next to him now. 

“Ready?” A voice whispered, familiar but changed with time. “One, two, three…” 

“Happy birthday, Papa!” 

The dream Malleus opened his eyes, a slow and easy smile crossing his face. The curtains were thrown open, revealing the three young boys standing at his bedside, rosy cheeked, green eyed, and horns curling up from their ebony locks. One of them held a plate stacked high with pancakes, dripping with strawberry syrup. Another held a party popper, which he pulled releasing a torrent of confetti and ribbons. The third held a paper card tightly in his hands, his grip causing it to crumple at the edges. 

“Did we wake you up, Papa?” The boy with the card asked in a concerned voice, pouting. 

Malleus smiled, sitting up in bed as the young boys climbed up to sit around him. “Not at all, Grimwald. What’s that you have there?” 

Grimwald shyly held the card out. Malleus gently pried it from his fingers. It was obviously homemade, colored pencil drawings of a family of five holding hands across the cover, four with Darconia horns crowning their heads. He opened the card. There was a large birthday cake drawing inside, with the words ‘Happy Birthday!’ in large blocky lettering above it. Around the cake, the artists had scribbled their names: Grimwald, Lilianos, and Malachite. 

“They wanted to surprise you,” A soft voice said. Malleus, both in and out of the dream, felt his heart skip a beat as (Y/N) came around the bed. She sat down at the edge, catching the plate of pancakes from Malachite so they wouldn’t splatter on the floor. She turned to him, carding her fingers through his hair, and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. “Good morning, Horton. Happy birthday.” 

“We made them ourselves!” Malachite proudly proclaimed. “Grandpa Lilia showed me how!” 

“Don’t worry,” (Y/N) whispered to him. “I supervised.” 

“Do you have to work today, Papa?” Lilianos asked. “You can’t ‘cause it’s your birthday, right? You have to stay and play with us today.” 

Malleus gathered his boys together so they all fit on the bed. “Birthdays are family days. I’d love nothing more than to spend the entire day hearing about  how you’ve been terrorizing the palace.” 

“Oh, oh!” Malachite called, hand shooting up. “I breathed fire and it burned up the curtains in the grand dining room!” 

(Y/N) looked at him sideways. “On accident, right?” 

Malachite blushed. “Yes, Mama.” 

“Can we go watch the knights train?” Lilianos asked. “Uncle Sebek and Uncle Silver said they would teach us to ride a horse!” 

“Why would you want to ride a horse when you can fly?” Malachite said, spreading his arms wide. 

“I want to go to the menagerie,” Grimwald added. They began to talk over each other, making plans for their father’s birthday without his input. 

Malleus smiled, watching his family. He turned back to (Y/N). She smiled at him, as glorious and warm as the sun after a year of frozen nights. He reached up, cupping her face, and brought her close. 

“I always knew my future would bring me to you.” 

[solxamber]

You Try to Sleep on the Couch after an Argument with: Vice-Housewardens + Ruggie

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

Trey Clover

The argument wasn’t a loud one—no shouting, no slamming doors—just tense words exchanged with too much weight behind them. Trey’s voice had been steady, but his usual patience was stretched thin.

You, equally frustrated, had decided that the best course of action was to remove yourself before either of you said something you’d regret.

So, with a sigh, you grabbed a blanket and made your way to the couch, settling in with your back turned toward the bedroom.

Trey let out a heavy exhale behind you, but he didn’t stop you.

You shifted, adjusting the blanket, willing yourself to fall asleep. It didn’t work. The room was too quiet, too heavy with the remnants of unspoken words. You half-expected Trey to leave you there and go to bed, but then—soft footsteps. A rustle of fabric.

Kneeling beside the couch, Trey placed a hand on the cushion near your arm. His voice was quiet, steady in a way that made something in your chest ache.

“Come back to bed.”

You closed your eyes. “Not yet.”

A pause. Then, a soft sigh. Trey stood. For a moment, you thought he was giving up, finally going to bed without you. The thought left an unexpected hollowness in your chest.

But then, after a few minutes, he returned. You smelled the milk before you saw it—the faint scent of vanilla and honey curling through the air. When you cracked an eye open, there he was, sitting on the floor near the couch, a mug in his hands. He held it out to you.

“Here,” he said. “I know you have trouble sleeping when you’re upset.”

You blinked at him, heart squeezing against your ribs. “Trey…”

He didn’t push, didn’t insist. He just waited, his eyes gentle, patient in the way only he could be.

And just like that, your frustration melted. You took the mug, letting the warmth seep into your fingers. Trey didn’t move, just watched you with that quiet steadiness. Then, softly, he asked again,

“Come back to bed?”

This time, you didn’t hesitate.

You set the mug aside and sat up, only for Trey to immediately wrap his arms around you. His hold was firm, grounding. He buried his face in your shoulder and murmured, “I’m sorry.”

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, holding him just as tightly. “I’m sorry too.”

Neither of you moved for a long moment, staying there in the quiet. Eventually, Trey pulled back just enough to press a kiss to your forehead.

“C’mon,” he said, voice low, warm. “Let’s go to sleep.”

And this time, when he led you back to bed, you followed without hesitation.

Ruggie Bucchi

The couch wasn’t comfortable. You knew it, and Ruggie knew it. But right now, your stubbornness outweighed your need for a good night’s sleep. You yanked the blanket over yourself, muttering under your breath as you tried to arrange the cushions into something remotely acceptable.

Across the room, Ruggie watched you with wide, calculating eyes. He hadn’t said anything since you stormed off, but you could feel him thinking. And then—

“You remember when you ate my last donut?” he started, voice small.

You froze, narrowing your eyes. “…What?”

“My last donut. You ate it, and you said—” He changed his voice in a mocking impression of you. “‘I owe you one, Ruggie, I swear. Anything you want.’”

You groaned, burying your face in the pillow. “Oh my —”

“But it’s fine,” he continued, so dramatically forlorn you almost threw the pillow at him. “I guess I’ll just be all alone in that big, cold bed. No warmth. No love. Just me. Shivering.”

You lifted your head, ready to tell him off, but then—oh, no.

He hit you with the look.

Ears drooping. Tail flicking. Wide, guilt-inducing eyes that shimmered just enough to make your resolve crack.

You exhaled sharply, dropping your head back down. “You’re the worst.”

He didn’t respond. Just fidgeted. Shuffled his feet like he was actually nervous you’d say no.

And that? That got you.

With a groan of defeat, you sighed and opened your arms. That was all he needed. Ruggie practically launched himself onto the couch, slotting himself beside you in a space absolutely not designed for two people. His weight pressed against you, his tail flicking lazily as he tucked his head under your chin.

“…Knew you couldn’t resist me,” he mumbled, voice muffled by your shirt.

“Shut up.”

His arms tightened around you. A quiet beat passed, then—

“Sorry.”

Your hand found its way into his hair, carding through the strands. “Yeah,” you murmured. “Me too.”

Ruggie hummed, content. Within minutes, his breathing evened out, and despite the ridiculousness of it all, sleep found you too.

Jade Leech

The couch was lumpy. Or maybe you were just too angry to get comfortable. Either way, you buried your face into the pillow, inhaling deeply through your nose to keep yourself from snapping again. You just needed some space. Needed to not be in the same room as Jade and his infuriating, calmly amused expression.

“I can’t be around you right now,” you had told him before marching off, voice tight with frustration. And for once, he didn’t push. Didn’t smirk or throw another veiled comment your way. He simply inclined his head, watching as you all but collapsed onto the couch.

Now, wrapped in a too-thin blanket, you willed yourself to sleep. You were almost there—drifting, fading—when fingers ghosted over your hair.

Your breath caught, but you kept still.

Soft strokes. Careful, reverent, as if he thought you might break. It was so unlike him, so gentle, that you almost cracked your eyes open to confirm it was really happening. Then—

“…I’m so sorry.”

The whisper was barely there. But it wasn’t the words that made your heart lurch—it was the way his voice shook.

Jade Leech, ever unflappable, sounded unsteady.

He pulled back, and you knew he was about to leave. That should have been fine. You should have let him go.

But your bleeding heart had other plans.

Your hand shot out, grabbing his wrist before he could slip away.

He barely had time to react before you yanked him back—maybe a little too hard, because the next thing you knew, he was crashing onto the couch with you. A rare, wide-eyed look of surprise flashed across his face, so fleeting you almost thought you imagined it.

And then you pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Jade froze.

“I’m sorry too,” you murmured. “We can talk in the morning.”

For a long moment, he just looked at you, something unreadable in his expression. Then, slow and deliberate, he dipped down and pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek.

“…Very well,” he whispered.

His weight settled beside you, and this time, when you drifted off, it was to the sound of his steady breathing, warm and close beside you.

The couch standoff had been going on for way too long.

“I’m sleeping here,” you declared, arms crossed as you planted yourself firmly onto the cushions.

“No, you’re not,” Jamil shot back, equally stubborn. “I am.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I’m not taking the bed while you sleep out here.”

“And I’m not letting you sleep out here while I take the bed.” His arms were crossed now too, mirroring your posture, his sharp gaze unwavering.

For a moment, the tension held. Then, something about the sheer ridiculousness of it all hit you—both of you too annoyed to back down but too caring to let the other suffer the discomfort of the couch.

A laugh bubbled up in your chest before you could stop it. You covered your mouth, but the moment you let out even the smallest chuckle, Jamil’s eyes flickered with reluctant amusement. He exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head.

“This is stupid,” you admitted between giggles.

He sighed, running a hand down his face. “Yeah. It is.”

You grinned. “Bed?”

Jamil didn’t hesitate. “Bed.”

The moment you both settled under the blankets, the last traces of tension melted away. His arms instinctively curled around you, pulling you close, and you let yourself relax into his warmth.

“Sorry,” you whispered, pressing your forehead against his shoulder.

His grip tightened, lips brushing against your hair. “Me too.”

Neither of you said anything else. You didn’t need to. The steady rhythm of his breathing and the way he held you just a little closer said enough.

Rook arguing with you was already unexpected. That he let you march off to the couch without a poetic declaration or dramatic plea? Unheard of.

You cocooned yourself in the blanket, stubbornly facing the back of the couch. The silence felt unnatural—too quiet for someone like Rook. A part of you expected him to suddenly recite a Shakespearean sonnet about lovers quarreling.

Instead, something even more ridiculous happened.

You shifted slightly, just enough to glance toward the floor—and there he was.

Laying down right beside the couch on a thin blanket, arms crossed behind his head as though he had chosen the most luxurious sleeping arrangement in the world. His golden hair fanned out on the hardwood floor, and despite the clear insanity of the situation, he looked perfectly content.

You stared. Blinked. “Rook.”

“Oui, mon amour?”

“You’re on the floor.”

“Indeed.”

“You’re going to get sick.”

“Then I shall suffer beautifully, just as you do now, exiled from the comfort of our bed.” His eyes twinkled, completely unrepentant. “If my beloved must endure the cruel fate of sleeping alone, then I shall share in their hardship.”

You pressed your fingers to your temples. “Rook, go to bed.”

“I am in bed.”

“No, you’re on the floor, being dramatic.”

“Dramatic? Ah, ma chérie, I am simply a devoted man.”

You groaned, throwing your arm over your face, but the warmth in your chest betrayed you. It was impossible to stay mad when he was like this. Ridiculous. Completely, helplessly devoted.

Sighing, you reached out and flicked his forehead. He gasped theatrically, touching the spot as though you had struck him with Cupid’s arrow. Before he could say something absurd, you leaned down and kissed the spot gently.

“Come to bed, you idiot.”

His eyes widened slightly before his lips stretched into a dazzling smile. Without hesitation, he stood—and then immediately scooped you into his arms.

“Rook—?!?”

“Ah, mon amour, such sweet mercy! Allow me to carry you away from this exile!” He spun dramatically, pressing an exaggerated kiss to your forehead before striding toward the bedroom.

You should have expected nothing less.

You sighed against his shoulder, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you adore me.”

You couldn’t argue with that.

Lilia Vanrouge

You had firmly decided that you weren’t going to sleep in the same bed as Lilia tonight.

You needed space. You needed time to cool off. You needed—

Blink.

One second, you were wrapped in your blanket on the couch. The next? You were in bed.

You shot up, heart pounding. Lilia stood at the bedside, arms crossed, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Lilia.” Your voice was dangerously even.

“Yes, my dear?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Did you teleport me?”

A smug smile. “Would you rather I carried you?”

Oh, you were about to start another argument—

But then you noticed something. In his hands: a pillow and his own blanket.

You frowned. “What are you doing?”

Lilia hummed, casual as anything. “If my beloved insists on sleeping elsewhere, then I shall take the couch in their place. I have endured far worse in my lifetime—” his eyes twinkled mischievously “—but I’d hate for you to wake up with an aching back.”

You groaned, flopping back onto the mattress. “That’s so unfair.”

“To be this thoughtful and charming? I know.”

You shot him a look, but he simply smiled. You hated how sweet he could be even when you were still irritated.

With an exasperated sigh, you sat up and grabbed his wrist, tugging him toward you. He followed easily, his blanket forgotten as he slipped into bed. Without hesitation, he wrapped himself around you, chin resting atop your head.

His voice softened. “I’m sorry, dear.”

You exhaled, tension leaving your body as you relaxed into his hold. “…I’m sorry too.”

His lips brushed against your temple, and with that, the night’s quarrel was put to rest.

Masterlist

[wakacchi]

"Eh?? What do you mean ○○ is related to Leech siblings?!??(°Д°")"

Let's meet the youngest of Leech, ○○ Leech~ Another addition in the exclusive library for 'Y/N You Want' tier on my ko-fi! Let's keep working happy to make more~ clap clap clap (≧▽≦ﾉﾉﾞ

Uwaa.. like I said before this format really gives more freedom but it really took too much time OTL I feel bad...

[yan-lorkai]

Kicks the door open I have come! to request a Self-aware AU with the Twst bois. When they and the Darling/MC/Player/S/O switch bodies. However, the Darling isn't inside the game. So it's like the Darling waking up in the boys' bodies inside the game, and the boys waking up in the Darling's body in the real world. Thankyou very much 🙏👍🫂✨

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ a/n: self-aware au, my beloved. It was so fun to write this and I wrote a lot too 🥺💓. It took me a while to finish, so I hope you like it, darling!

Azul could always feel your presence through the puppet you control. He felt calm when you looked at him. He felt delighted at every laugh you laughed, and he wanted nothing more than to be beside you. The real you. He wished really hard for it to be possible someday, not knowing that this was exactly what was going to happen. Although his request was successful, there was just one error in the equation: he was in your body, your holy, beautiful body. Which means... You were in his horrible body.

While others would feel happy (and he really is happy to an extent), Azul feels a sense of trepidation knowing that you were awaking in his body and there was no way for him to check on you. Or could he? He tried calling his own phone but it wasn't possible. Resigned, he then took to explore your room and home and if you have any roommates / lived with your parents, Azul would try get along with them and collect information on you. While this isn't the ideal, Azul still has to think ten times ahead so when he take you to Twisted Wonderland (not a matter of if but more of when), he could make you sign a deal.

By the way, he definitely try to unlock your phone. And since he is in your body, Azul may try to unlock your phone with your fingerprint or your face if your phone has that function. If he is successful Azul will read your messages as if it were a magazine, he would see what type of songs you listen and videos you like to watch, what's in your history. Basically he is your fbi agent seeing everything on your phone, there's not a thing he'll not see. Good luck for you, reader. That's why I always I always delete my history lol.

Meanwhile you. You wake up on Azul Ashengrotto's body, the octavinelle dorm leader. Geez, are you dreaming? But everything is so real and feels so real. Jade and Floyd seems so real. And their voices, mocking and teasing, almost condescending as you tried your best to act like Azul. They seemed to know that something was wrong but neither choose to ask, brushing off as you being busy with a new scam plan. You were overjoyed but also anxious, without knowing what to do. Could you even return to your body at all? Only time will tell.

⠀⠀

Jade always knew that something was strange with this world, it was almost too... Surreal? He can't quite put into words the things he feel but everything was so much clearer whenever he could feel your presence when he was studying or riding his broom. He could feel your presence when he was cooking, when he was talking about this terrariums, when he was beating people who broke their part of the deal. You seemed to favor him, to love him. He could feel your affection seeping through your cellphone. And he wished to see you, to know you as intimately as you knew him.

And that wish became real. One day he woke up in a different bedroom, in a different body, then, while he is a little surprised, Jade just brush this off as something you did. Perhaps you wanted to show him your world? You wanted to show him your life? Or were you trying to show him something else? Either way, Jade is having the time of his life in your body. Though, as if he was mesmerized by it, he caught himself looking himself at the mirror to see your face staring right back at him. He looks like an excited kid making silly faces in front of the mirror. Honestly he is so unserious. Making faces and silly dances, and laughing because of it.

⠀

Floyd is instantly thrilled, if somewhat bewildered. At first, he messes around with everything he can find, marveling at your surroundings and taking a deep dive into your belongings — he finds it all so fascinating. He’s absolutely entertained by exploring your room, your things, and all the little details that give him insight into your life. But once the novelty wears off, his mischievous nature kicks in. He wants to know everything about you — what you like, your habits, your friends — and he’s not afraid to dig deep. Floyd starts exploring your social media, searching for anything that brings him closer to you and your world. If he finds anyone he thinks might be close to you, he’s ready to make them uncomfortable with cryptic messages or odd behavior, wanting to make it clear that no one knows you better than him.

Meanwhile, you, trapped in Floyd’s body, have to navigate his spontaneous, unpredictable moods and intense physicality — whether in class, on the basketball court, or during his shenanigans. He's having the time of his life while you are fighting for yours, even more when Azul send you to squeeze some people. Like??? How are you supposed to do this????

⠀

Silver always dreamt of you. He knew you, the feeling of your love and affection, the tone of your voice, even if when he woke up he forget everything. A blurry line separating you two. For a while, he thought that you were some higher being that he created on his mind, a simple part of his imagination. That is until this magicless student come around and your presence was all over them, controlling them, talking through them. He wanted to get closer, he wished he could talk to you, to bask on your presence. But he couldn't. He couldn't break his code. Not yet.

But when he slept that night something was different. He couldn't jump into another dream, his voice was different, his height was different, then when he inched closer to the mirror, he saw. A different face. And he knew instantly that it was your face. It was a very beautiful face, exactly how he had imagined. Though it was not what he wanted. He wanted to talk to you, to tell what he felt whenever your gaze was upon him. He didn't want to be you. Or for you to be him.

⠀

Riddle wakes up in your body, feeling completely disoriented and frustrated with the lack of control he has over the new, unfamiliar world around him. But soon, the shock turns into curiosity and then into obsession as he realizes he now has full access to everything about you, your routines, belongings, even your weaknesses, and insecurities.

Riddle’s meticulous nature drives him to organize your life, make everything as “perfect” as he can, so when you’re back, it’ll be clear that he knows what’s best for you. He spends hours exploring your things, setting up strict plans, and making lists, even going so far as to cut out people he feels are a bad influence. All of this, in his mind, is for your “own good.”

In Twisted Wonderland, you’re now bound to the rules of Heartslabyul, balancing Riddle’s strict schedule, navigating his many routines, and dealing with his high standards as you struggle to maintain his reputation without causing a commotion.

⠀

Jamil is quick to adjust, immediately masking his initial confusion in favor of stealthily gathering information about your world. He keeps a low profile, but behind that calm facade, he’s strategically piecing together every part of your life, figuring out who’s important to you and how he can stay in your life even if he returns to his world. Jamil moves through your world with subtlety, observing your friends and family with a quiet intensity, noting who to trust — and who to remove from your life. He’s ready to make subtle changes to your social circle or behavior, aligning your life with what he thinks is “best.”

Meanwhile, back in Twisted Wonderland, you’re handling Jamil’s carefully hidden responsibilities, feeling the pressure of his dual life between serving Kalim and managing his own ambitions, all while trying not to slip up and reveal your true identity. It's difficult.

⠀

Kalim wakes up in your body with sheer joy and fascination, his excitement overriding any initial confusion. He’s absolutely delighted to be in your world, taking in every little detail with childlike wonder. Kalim sees this as an opportunity to become even closer to you, and he goes about learning everything there is to know about your life, friends, and family, brimming with excitement to be part of it all. He’s incredibly affectionate with anyone he meets, happy to share his thoughts, and may unintentionally end up sharing details about “you” that leave people puzzled. He can’t resist splurging a bit on your behalf, thinking he’s treating you.

As for you, adapting to Kalim’s responsibilities in Twisted Wonderland is overwhelming, as you’re thrown into his high-energy life and surrounded by his devoted friends and followers. His cheerful, social world is a whirlwind of activity and expectation, especially with Jamil by your side, assessing every move you make with a scrutinizing eye.

⠀

When Ruggie wakes up in your body, he’s initially thrown off but quickly realizes the opportunity in front of him. Instead of panicking, he takes a strategic approach, savoring every moment as he explores your life and digs into your personal world. His tendencies kick in subtly but intensely; he’s not one for grand, showy gestures, but every action is deliberate, aimed at securing his presence in your life as deeply as possible, as he changes your wallpaper for fanart of him and enters the game to level up all his cards for you.

He begins by poking through your belongings, finding small things that give him insight into your personality, routines, and friends. Ruggie is careful to go unnoticed, learning as much as he can about your relationships and keeping mental notes about anyone he thinks poses a “threat” to his place in your life. He’s not above making subtle changes, distancing you from people he dislikes and reshaping your social circle to align with his preferences, but he does so with skillful subtlety — most people won’t even realize he’s manipulating things from behind the scenes.

If you have a job, he’ll blend right in, charming your colleagues and subtly gaining their favor, leaving an impression that makes it hard for anyone to forget you. He’s naturally resourceful, too, so he takes a look at your finances, maybe even setting aside a bit of extra money “for emergencies” (which, of course, he intends to use for things he thinks you’ll need down the line).

Meanwhile, back in Twisted Wonderland, you’re adjusting to the gritty pace of Ruggie’s life in Savanaclaw. His resourcefulness is evident in every little aspect of his world — from balancing odd jobs to navigating the intense social structure under Leona’s rule. You feel the constant need to stay alert, manage his reputation, and keep up with his never-ending hustle. It’s a life of quick thinking, constant negotiation, and clever shortcuts that keep you on your toes, giving you a firsthand taste of Ruggie’s way of surviving in a world that doesn’t make things easy. You made a note to dote on him when you get back to your body, he deserves.

[calcifiedunderland]

Had this idea for my MerMay event 👀💌 I’m really proud of this one. Hope you enjoy!

Floyd! Azul!

Legends told that you could control a selkie if you were to steal their pelt. That being said, Jade wasn’t very concerned with others taking his eel skin.

If anyone were to get their hands on a Selkie’s pelt - the skin they wore in order to turn back into their merform - they could make the pelt’s owner do their bidding. Jade supposed it would be smart to keep it locked away in his dorm, like Azul, or constantly on his person, like Floyd, but he liked it to be seen.

Usually, he had it slung across the back of his chair or around his neck with his Dorm scarf when in uniform. Sometimes, he’d tuck it in his bag, and it would stick out whenever he took his things out. A reminder to anyone that, while he was a menace on land, he was still from the ocean.

It gave him a twisted kind of amusement to watch the look in others’ eyes. The desire to take his eel skin, to hold it in their grubby little land-folk hands and steal it from him. It would be so easy. One quick swipe from the back of his chair, or a quick pick-pocketing from his bag, and then they held the power.

It would be so easy to control Jade Leech - to have something over him, to take something so important to him. To finally have the upper hand over Jade Leech. To trap the charming moray himself.

If only they’d work up the courage.

He’d deliberately make a show of it, drawing the skin slowly from his bag and shaking it out. The slick, shiny, smooth teal pelt that meshed perfectly with his human body would drape over the chair back tantalizingly. The same pelt that allowed him to return to his home in the ocean, that gave him the power of returning to his natural eel form, hung over the chair as if it were nothing but a mere jacket.

He’d usually feel the weight of others’ gazes upon him while he did his work, but today Azul gave him a large stack of papers to work through. Something about a deal of his again. Being Octavinelle vice Housewarden certainly had it’s busy moments. And despite being a menace, Jade was still an accomplished student, so he put his head down and got to work.

Quietly, over the hours he worked, the pelt slid soundlessly from the chairback to the floor. Jade didn’t even notice - just as the skin allowed him to move through the water without a ripple, it fell without so much as a sound. He must have been so focused on his work, or perhaps half asleep, that he didn’t even notice you come behind him.

His head snapped to you when he felt your fingers brush against his back. You flinched backward, fingers clutching his pelt.

“What are you doing?” Jade’s eyes bored into yours, face slack. You tried not to gulp as you gingerly tucked the teal ‘jacket‘ back onto Jade’s chair.

“You dropped your jacket onto the floor, I was just putting it back,” you explained. “It just looked really pretty with the colors and trims and stuff, so I figured you didn’t want it to get dirty…” you rubbed the back of your neck, trailing off.

Something like shock swirled in Jade’s eyes as he looked at you. You had already taken your hands off the pelt, but you could’ve very well run off with it. He searched your face for any sign of foul play, but found none. His heart skittered a beat, amused. You had no idea what you’d just done, had you? You hadn’t even realized you’d declared your intentions to him, earnest and sweet. How cute.

A selkie coat already was a valuable thing, but an eel selkie coat was very uncommon. To take a selkie’s coat was one thing. To return it to them was practically a declaration. And you gave it back to Jade without a second thought, with honesty in your eyes as you called it a jacket. A jacket.

“Welp, I should probably go,” you felt awkward under Jade’s gaze. His pupils were smaller than a pinhole, and despite being helpful, you somehow felt like you did something big. Still, Jade wasn’t biting your head off, so it couldn’t have been that bad?

You shouldered your bag as you trudged out of the library, Jade’s gaze still haunting you. You willed it out of your head once you entered Ramshackle, and didn’t think about it until the next day when Jade approached you.

Imagine your surprise when you saw a strangely soft-gazed Jade looking down on you, seated in the cafeteria, hastily eating your lunch. “(Name),” he said fondly, his ‘jacket’ draped around his shoulders. You swallowed your food in a hurry, eyes falling on the teal ‘fabric.’ You could’ve sworn it was a jacket or something, with how large and long it was. Come to think of it, you’d never seen Jade actually wear it, and it seemed more suede-y than soft…

Jade grinned cryptically, “I must say, you surprised me in the library when you made your intentions known. But I do accept them.” You opened your mouth but no words came out. You were flabbergasted. What on earth…?

Jade’s voice took you out of your thoughts. “I must thank you for returning my pelt to me. Perhaps I can repay you with a complimentary Mostro Lounge meal?” You gawked at him, feeling bewildered.

You managed a confused nod, “I-I mean, sure? But I didn’t really do anything-“ “Splendid. You will join me for dinner later today after classes. Please do not be late.” Jade gave you a cryptic smile before smoothly walking away,

Beside you, your friends gawked. Grim nearly choked on his tuna, “what jus’ happened?!” You shrugged, eyes wide as you stared into space trying to understand, “I don’t know! I just gave Jade back his green shoulder-thing, and now he wants to pay me back or something? What, is it a big deal?”

Ace looked at you like you were stupid, Deuce looked at you with pity, Jack looked shocked, while Epel’s jaw dropped. “You just made your shot at one of the creepiest guys on campus!” Ace spluttered. You looked at the others helplessly, “what?”

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. “Prefect, I know you come from a different world and all, but do you at least know what a selkie is?” You nodded hesitantly, and Jack continued. “Did you touch his pelt?” You frowned, “you mean that green thing on his shoulders? I thought it was his jacket. I just gave it back to him when it fell?”

You laughed nervously as your friends stared at you. “He didn’t declare war on me or something right?” Epel sipped his apple juice, “nah. The opposite, actually.” You choked on your food.

Guess you’ll be dealing with a besotted Jade for the foreseeable future.

Thanks for reading!! Reqs for Mermay are open til the end of may! Xoxo calci

[akisteahouse]

Thinking about romance tropes with the Tweels…

Sharing a bed with Floyd Leech! Who is quite simply, the absolute worst person to have to share a bed with. >:( Constantly tossing and turning in bed, absurdly long legs kicking yours with the grace of a bull in a china shop, nearly suffocating you when he suddenly chucked the blanket over your head. When he finally, finally stayed still for more than a minute, you had prayed to the seven that he had, at long last, fallen asleep. Your prayers were not heard when he promptly grabbed the blanket and threw it to the floor, leaving you to deal with the chilly air - thanks a lot, Floyd. You eventually get lulled to sleep, somehow, but what was more surprising was how you woke up. Back pressed uncomfortably against Floyd’s zippered jacket, limbs tangled against the cool bed sheets, his face squished into the crook of your neck, the sound of his soft snoring more present than ever, arms wrapped securely around your waist. Oh Seven. You couldn't move, not like this, ensnared in some sleepy eel’s hands… Oh, whatever shall you do… ;)

Stuck in a closet with Jade Leech! Who after weeks of having far too much sexual tension by simply smiling at you, finally meets his repercussions after you decide you’ve had enough and promptly shove him into one of Monstro Lounge’s many storage closets. It’s already much too cramped for one person, so two people inside it is practically a death sentence for Jade’s poor heart, and even more so his freakishly long legs - seeing how he had to literally bend his knees to even make sure his head didn’t bang against the low ceiling. His wrists firmly pinned against the cool wall of the closet, standing so close you could hear his breath, the out-of-character way his chest rose up and down. Oh? Whose face flushed such a pretty shade of pink, his eyes clearly refusing to meet yours, that you just had to marvel at the sight. And oh, what lovely sight it was, the always impeccable and calm Jade Leech losing his composure for the very first time, all because of you. And oh Seven, what kind of fool would you be if you didn’t take advantage of this? ;)

[nekonaps0]

Octavinelle x chubby reader

Soft and cute

✦ characters: Azul, Jade, Floyd

✦ gn!reader

✦chubby!reader

✦okay! Straight forward, I didn’t get too much information so I used my ✨writer freedom✨ hope you guys like it

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul has always been insecure about his past, his appearance, his worth. So when he falls for you, someone with a smile that could bring the ocean to its knees, he understands what it means to carry self-doubt.

At first, he’s awkward about it. Not because he’s uncomfortable with your body, quite the opposite, but because he knows how cruel people can be. He’s heard it before, the way some whisper behind their hands. And he hates the idea of you ever hearing it too.

So one day, while you're lying together on the Mostro Lounge VIP couch after hours, your head on his shoulder, he whispers:

“You’re… exquisite. You know that, right?”

You blink up at him, surprised. “I mean… I try.”

His hand finds yours. “No. I mean it. You’re stunning. Your softness… it’s comforting. Warm. You walk into a room and I forget every contract I’ve ever written.”

You giggle. “Azul, are you flirting with me or rewriting my biography?”

He turns red. “The first one….”

And later, when you hesitate over a dress or grumble about your curves, he’s the first to pull you into his arms, hands resting on your hips like they belong there.

“Don’t you dare hide,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “You’re not meant to hidden. You were made to be admired.”

Jade Leech

Jade is an observer. Nothing escapes him, your nervous glances when you think a piece of clothing doesn’t flatter you, the way you touch your stomach self-consciously, the way your smile falters just a second too soon when someone talks about “ideal body types.”

But Jade doesn’t love you in spite of your body. He adores you because you’re you. Full-bodied. Soft. Stunning.

Once, while you were hiking together (he insisted it would be “a relaxing little adventure”… (LIES)), you paused for a breather, hand on your hip, cheeks flushed. You muttered something under your breath about slowing him down. He turned, slowly.

“My Dear,” he said, voice low and velvety, “you are the highlight of this entire trip.”

You blinked at him. “I’m sweaty and wheezing.”

He tilted your chin up with a gloved finger. “And still more stunning than any wildflower we’ve passed.”

Later, he’d take your hand, guiding it to the curve of your waist with his own resting just beneath. He’d murmur:

“Beauty comes in many forms, but yours? Yours is the kind I’d catalog and treasure.”

Jade doesn’t just love you, he reveres you. He whispers poetry against your skin. He makes you feel like you were carved by ocean gods.

And the way he looks at you? Like a collector who’s found the rarest, most precious specimen in the world.

Floyd Leech

Floyd doesn’t care about rules. Or expectations. Or body standards.

All he knows is that you’re his, and he loves how you feel under his arms when he wraps you in a bone crushing hug.

He lives to squish your cheeks and grab your hips and throw you over his shoulder like a prize, no matter how heavy you think you are.

He adores your softness.

When you try to pull away or joke about being “too heavy,” he narrows his eyes, scoops you up like it’s nothing, and growls

“Too heavy? Nah. You’re just right.”

One time, you asked, “Floyd, don’t you think I’d look better if I lost a few kg/pounds?”

He stared at you for a second, expression darkening, not with anger at you, but at the thought.

“Nope. I like my shrimpy exactly like this. Don’t change. You’re soft in all the best places.”

Kiss attacks. And a tackle-hug. Floyd is all physical affection and zero patience for insecurity. He doesn’t tolerate you saying anything mean about yourself. Not on his watch. Or if you do, be ready being covered with bite marks.

He loves showing you off, especially when people stare, because it means he gets to sling an arm around your waist and smirk like he’s won the jackpot.

“Jealous, huh? Can’t blame ya. My shrimpy’s gorgeous.”

..............................................................................................................................

Okey! Listen! I love Jade… but his hiking?!? Hell nah! 🧍‍♀️ I would support him from home. Deam… my stamina is at Idia level…

[bluessmau]

Chiikawa Plushies

In which GN!Reader buys matching Chiikawa Plushies for themselves and their boyfriend, the Vice-Housewarden[s].

Established Relationship. Fluff. Requested by Anon.

Trey Clover

Jade Leech

Jamil Viper

Rook Hunt

Lilia Vanrouge

[ducksido]

Idk if you accept requests but I just read your "accidentally proposing" fic with Octavinelle, Savanaclaw and Diasomnia and had an idea!! (I have Savanaclaw in mind specifically but it might work with others?)

So what if to beast/mer/etc men, biting/marking your lover is basically like a wedding ring. A symbol to others that you're claimed (and that both parties felt safe enough to be marked that way). So imagine if the boys are already kinda crushing on Yuu/reader only for them to take their jacket off or something and reveal like a big ole bite mark on their shoulder (or wherever) and they get all mopey thinking their already claimed but in reality they just got bit by something back from their world and the scar stuck

(Inspired partially by my dad, who has a big bite mark on his arm that everyone thinks is a tattoo. it's not. Just an old dog bite)

(damn your dad sounds cool)

Savanaclaw

Setting: The Savanaclaw boys have been pining for you, and today, you're just casually stripping your jacket off after PE class, revealing a decent-sized bite scar on your shoulder.

They freeze.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona’s eyes lock onto the mark and he goes deathly quiet. His tail flicks. His ears flatten just a bit. Internally?

"Of course. Figures. I finally meet someone who doesn’t annoy me and they’re already spoken for."

He sulks hard. You notice him going distant, brushing you off when you try to chat later. It’s not until days later—when he mutters, "Your mate let you walk around unguarded like that?"—that you blink and go,

"Mate? Oh, no, a dog bit me when I was ten. Real jerk. Still got the scar."

Leona’s head snaps up. His ears twitch.

"Wait… that’s not a claiming mark?"

Cue one (1) very smug Leona by the next morning, mysteriously returning to sitting too close again.

Jack Howl

Jack actually drops the water bottle he was holding when he sees the scar. His eyes widen and then avert—immediately. He turns pink at the tips of his ears.

"Oh. I—I didn’t know you were already marked. Sorry."

He becomes very formal, very stiff. Starts calling you “prefect” again instead of your name. You finally confront him, a bit heartbroken at the sudden coldness.

"You’ve been weird since PE, what gives?"

"...I just didn’t want to overstep. That kind of scar usually means you belong to someone."

When you tell him it’s an old wound from a totally mundane dog bite, he short circuits. Like, tail-wagging-involuntarily level of flustered.

"I—I see! That makes sense! You—you should be more careful, it looked real... um, real meaningful."

Now he can't stop glancing at your shoulder and getting flustered.

Ruggie Bucchi

“Tch. Lucky bastard, whoever bagged ya.”

He’s a mix of bitter and resigned—still flirty, but with a new sad little edge. Keeps joking like,

“Too bad you’re taken. Coulda had fun.”

When you finally ask what the hell he means, he gestures at the scar like, duh.

“That’s a mark. You don’t just give or get one of those unless you’re real serious.”

You: “That was a chihuahua. It bit me because I stole its hotdog.”

He stares.

“...A chihuahua did that?” “Yeah.” “And here I was mourning a relationship that never even existed. You owe me emotional compensation, y’know!”

Back to flirting. With vengeance.

OCTAVIANS:

Setting: You’re helping out in the Lounge. The uniform jacket’s getting hot, so you slip it off behind the bar… and your shirt collar slips just enough for a very visible, very real-looking bite scar to be seen by two (2) nosy eels and one (1) devastated octomer.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul freezes mid-shaker pour. You don’t notice—it’s just a quick glimpse—but Azul does. And his brain short circuits.

"A mark that deep... that shape... it’s deliberate. Ritualistic. They’re already bound?"

He’s devastated—but covers it up with grace. Or tries to. He gets very formal, colder. You catch him staring at your shoulder more than once with that complicated emotion you can’t name.

He’s too polite to ask directly—until the heartbreak gets to him.

“You’re in a binding, aren’t you?”

You: “Huh?”

“The bite mark on your shoulder. Among merfolk, that symbolizes an eternal commitment.”

You: “Oh! Nah. That’s just from a dog that chomped me when I was a kid. I kicked him in the face.”

Azul.exe has stopped working.

“...You what—?”

Goes beet red and storms into his office to scream into a pillow. You later find your drink on the house, labeled ‘thanks for the heart attack’.

Jade Leech

Jade smiles when he sees the scar. But his eyes go half-lidded, calculating. He suddenly speaks softer. Steps farther back. Less teasing, more… respectful distance.

“My, I wasn’t aware you were already bound. Forgive me if my prior behavior overstepped.”

You: “Bound to what now??”

He gestures subtly to your shoulder, like it’s obvious.

“A bite mark like that, well… among certain species, it’s not given lightly. It would be considered rude to compete for the affection of one already ‘marked.’”

Cue your laugh.

“Oh that? I was eleven. Some mutt thought my lunch was his.”

Jade pauses… then grins, slow and sharp.

“Is that so? How very fortunate. In that case… I wonder how your skin scars. Hypothetically, of course.”

You're not sure if that’s a flirt or a threat. Probably both.

Floyd Leech

“...Huh?”

He just blinks at the mark when he sees it. Then squints real hard. Then stops talking to you.

Like, full Floyd shutdown mode. No nicknames. No glomps. Just grumpy silence. You ask him what’s wrong, and he shrugs you off like:

“Nothin’. Don’t talk to taken people. It’s boring.”

You practically have to wrestle the truth out of him. When he finally gestures at the mark, you laugh so hard you snort.

“That? Nah, that’s from a dog bite. We were playing tug-of-war and he missed the toy and got my shoulder instead. It’s just a scar.”

“Whaaat?? That’s it??”

Floyd immediately perks up. Grabs your shoulders and spins you around like:

“So you’re not somebody’s shrimp? Heh. Good. I hate leftovers.”

Later bites you (playfully) and says he wants to "make it official."

DIASOMNIA

Malleus Draconia

Malleus was just enjoying your presence—he always is. You pull off your hoodie to reveal a bite mark on your upper arm and— He stares.

The air around him tightens. He doesn’t speak at first. Just… quietly steps back. His green eyes dim.

“...You are claimed.”

He says it like a funeral eulogy.

You blink. “Claimed?? What are you talking about?”

“That mark. You accepted a fae bond.”

You laugh. “Wait, this?” You twist your arm to show him properly. “That’s from a feral raccoon. He got me through a screen door.”

...

Malleus goes silent. Then he laughs—one of those rare, rich, real ones.

“You truly are fascinating, Child of Man. A sacred mark... from a trash beast.”

And now he won’t stop teasing you about it.

“Shall I give you a proper one, to replace the raccoon’s?”

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia recognizes the bite mark instantly—and what it would mean if it were real. His smile drops for a moment. A beat of quiet heartbreak.

“Oh… you’ve already given yourself to another?”

He masks it fast—reverts to his cheerful, mischievous self. But the sharpness in his tone dulls.

“You should’ve told us! We’d have sent you a proper gift, you know. A token for the bound.”

You: “Lilia, I got this bite scar from a goose. I was five. It hated my jacket.”

“...A goose?” “An evil goose.”

A beat. Then he laughs so hard he nearly levitates.

“You poor thing! Bitten by a beast of chaos!” “You mean the goose?” “No. The jacket.”

He’s overjoyed, suddenly affectionate again, now plotting how to actually mark you with fae tradition. You may have unleashed something.

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek screams internally the moment he sees it. He immediately turns away, face twisted.

“I see. You have already pledged loyalty elsewhere.”

Goes full formal mode. Loud. Respectful. Heartbroken.

“I WAS A FOOL TO BELIEVE—TO HOPE—THAT YOU WERE UNBOUND!”

You’re like: “Dude. What?”

He dramatically points at the scar.

“That! You wear it openly!”

You: “Oh, you mean my shoulder scar? A horse bit me.”

Sebek.exe blue screens.

“A… horse?” “He didn’t like carrots. I was five.”

...

He gets so red. Immediately bows in apology. Starts yelling at the horse retroactively. Gives you his coat. Declares he’ll train to bite harder than any equine.

Silver

Silver notices the scar. He gets very quiet. Thoughtful.

Later that day, he gently asks:

“Did it hurt when you were claimed?”

You pause. “What do you mean?”

“The mark. It’s permanent. You must’ve trusted them deeply.”

You laugh. “No, no—Silver, I got that from a neighbor’s dog. He panicked during fireworks.”

Silver: “Oh.”

...Then he stares at the sky like it personally betrayed him.

“I thought I missed the moment you gave your heart away...”

You pat his shoulder, and he very gently, very subtly leans into it—maybe hoping he could be the one to earn that mark someday.

[kyeri00]

BOOMMMM SHAKALAKAAAAAAA JADEEE???????

[riddlesrose]

Hi hi!! I recently read your HCs of “kissin him stupid” With the housewardens and I was wondering if it’s possible to request the same thing but with the vice housewardens + ruggie? If not then you can just ignore this, thanks in advance! <33

kissin him stupid pt. 2

w/ trey, ruggie, jade, jamil, rook, & lilia

in which you were recently gifted a tube of lipstick from grim, you're unsure of where he got it or why he decided it's yours now but it's given you a fantastic idea.

(he probably stole it from vil somehow and wants to place the blame on you..)

tysm for this request - i didnt know if i wanted to do a part two but if the audience seeks more i shall deliver, and i decided to take jamil's a slightly different route, it's all the same in the end

part one!

trey removes and folds his glasses, placing them on the nightstand. he falls back onto his bed with a defeated sigh.

the mattress dips as you sit beside him, mocking his sigh. he shuts his eyes and smiles, playfully swatting at you like a pestering fly in the summer heat. 

“long day?” you turn to sit more comfortably. 

“you have no idea.” 

“i think i do. you may go prematurely grey dealing with ace and deuce alone, i can imagine adding literally anyone else into the equation would probably drive anyone crazy.” you reach over, smoothing your thumb between his eyebrows, watching as they unfurrow under your touch. trey grabs your hand and kisses the palm. 

he sighs again, and you think this is your chance to drive him a little more crazy. you feel for the lipstick in your pocket, and apply it as quietly as you can as you listen to trey recount his day. 

you hum in agreement, shifting closer so you’re not awkwardly leaning around his head and grab both of his hands, caging them in one of your own. he could easily escape your makeshift prison but he doesn’t. as he attempts to open his eyes, you cover them with your free hand, rendering him more sightless than he was without his glasses. 

you brush your lips slightly against trey’s, then move to kiss his cheek, down to his jaw, then up to his forehead. you remove your hand from his eyes, knowing he understands your goal. trey purses his lips, trying to hide the smile that threatens to break out. 

you brush some hair off his forehead and kiss it again, then under his eye, and the other. you notice he’s wriggled his hands free of your hold when an arm wraps around you, pulling you inches closer. 

trey leans his forehead against yours, transferring some of the lip marks onto you, “did you know you’re worse than the first years combined?”

you lean back, gasping dramatically. “how rude! for that,” you turn your back completely to him, “i think i’m done here.” 

he grabs a handful of the back of your sweater, pulling you back, “hey now…” 

“‘hey’ yourself,” you say, smiling stupidly at his somewhat messy appearance. 

trey pulls you down further, kissing your cheek, “i surely wouldn’t let them do this, would i?”

you know he meant for that to be cute and meaningful, but you can’t help but drive him a little further towards the edge of insanity, “well, i would hope not? that would be a little awkward.” trey groans as you snicker. 

you know he likes you.

ruggie will do just about anything for the right price, everyone knows that. you seem to think that you’ve got his code cracked as he stands in the middle of the ramshackle kitchen utterly speechless because you’ve got him to leave savanaclaw, come all the way here, just to open an already opened jar of olives. 

well, you needed an excuse to try on your newest gift from grims grubby, thieving paws. 

ruggie turns to place the jar down, still wondering why he needed to be the one to get it open. while he’s pondering to himself about your choices, you call out to him from just outside the door, “you done?” 

“uh, yeah. why did i need-” he’s stopped by you as he passes through the door frame, grabbing onto his shirt and pulling him to you. 

he stumbles but regains himself swiftly, eyes narrowed in confusion. he doesn’t have time to question you again as you let his shirt go, and wrap an arm around his neck, bringing him to perfect height. you start pecking swift kisses all over his cheeks and forehead. ruggie hesitates momentarily, unsure of what’s going on, why you’re suddenly kissing him a lot, and were your lips always that red? no…

he grabs onto your shoulders and pushes back lightly, attaining new open inches between the two of you, and examines your face. he knew he wasn’t crazy. “where d’ya get the lipstick?” 

you shrug, “grim, i guess?” 

“you guess?” you nod, attempting to return to attacking showering ruggie with affection, but he stops you once again. “wait, wait. what is this?” 

“i know you don’t do things for free, it’s reasonable! and i kind of just wanted a reason to kissalloveryourface.” you hide behind your hand by the end of your sentence, trying to make it as inaudible as possible, but with the flush that takes over ruggie’s cheeks, you know he’s heard you loud and clear. 

“you’re… insufferable.” 

“but you like me!”

jade’s bicoloured eyes follow from his desk chair as you walk circles around his room, talking his ear off about one thing or the other. you plunge your hand into your pocket and fiddle with the items you brought along, only to wing your arm out again to dramatically accentuate your sentence. 

the cycle breaks when jade grabs your attention, motioning for you to come closer. you sputter, trying to focus your mind from your tangent back to calm. your hand finds the tube in your pocket once again. 

when you’re close enough to arms length, jade reaches out, “what do you keep playing with?” he gently grasps the wrist of the hand in your pocket, revealing the black tube in your hand.

a smile creeps up onto your lips as you un-cap the lipstick and apply it swiftly before jade can fully process what it is. though he’s quick and observant, he’s taken slightly aback as he wasn’t expecting the rich red makeup. it’s not everyday either of you have reason to get dressed up, and as far as jade’s scary good memory goes, there’s nothing planned for tonight. 

“it was a… gift of sorts. can i?” 

jade narrows his eyes slightly, but nods nonetheless, trusting you’re not planning his imminent demise. you place a stabilizing hand on the arm of his desk chair and use the other to move aside the long black strand of hair the left side of his face. you place a kiss under the spot the strand covers, but you don’t stop. you trail across his forehead, down his nose and press a kiss to the corner of his lips. 

you lean back slightly, and are met with jade’s features covered in a light, rosy flush. a sharp toothy grin spreads across his lips as he drags you back, stealing a red-stained kiss, making you gasp. 

“oh, no you don’t,” you mutter as you attempt to continue your kiss-ambush. jade throws his hands up in defeat, allowing you to smudge the red makeup all around his face. 

jade’s eyes shut as you press your lips against him more and more, until he’s more kiss than eel. 

he chuckles when he figures you’re not stopping, “okay, okay… i think i’m more red than i’ve ever been.” 

you lean back again, ready to protest but you realize that he’s right. there’s more smudges and stains on his face than bare skin. you grab the tube and examine it, there’s got to be some warning on here that says ‘super, extremely smudging.’ or ‘not transfer proof’ because you now have first hand experience with its ability.

jamil runs a hand through his hair, lightly tugging out a tangle near the end as he watches you through the reflection of your vanity mirror. the delicate, white wooden desk was a gift from vil after the SDC and STYX affairs. he had planned to gift you something of the sorts but it was put on a… temporary hold after he was taken. 

what vil didn’t disclose was that he’d left a tray of different makeup items in one of the drawers with a note, just in case you’d ever like to try your hand. many thanks, vil. 

thanks to the sneaky housewarden, you have a fabulous idea for the unsuspecting serpentine vice sitting on your bed. you turn on the short bench seat to jamil, giving a small nod of approval. you assume it’s because of the red lipstick that you chose to show off. 

you beckon him closer, across your decently sizable room. he raises a brow but complies anyways. once he’s within arms reach, you grab onto the front of his sweater, pulling him close enough to lean up and kiss his cheek, leaving a perfectly shaped mark. 

heat instantly rushes to jamil’s face as he frees himself from your grasp and covers his face. he averts his eyes, looking anywhere but you, and it has you thinking what you did was wrong. he quickly notices your concern and starts to feel guilty for reacting how he did but it really caught him off guard. 

while jamil’s turning gears in his head, you realize he’s flustered. extremely flustered. embarrassed, even. 

you stand, taking a tentative step towards jamil as if he’s a skittish animal that may bolt if you move too quickly. when he makes no move to back away further, you remove the hands from his face, snickering. 

you slowly press another kiss to his heated face, then another, and another one until his cheeks are covered and jamil’s attempting to hide himself inside the collar of his sweater. 

he wants to hide himself away, to reach out and never let go, ask for more, and run away all at once, or none at the same time. jamil’s conflicted, but the one thing he does know is that he gets to be selfish, and he’ll take all he can get.

rook takes your face in his hands, gently examining the purple lipstick swatches over your lips. “i think this colour is the best one, so far!” he exclaims with excitement. you turn to face the mirror, the colour reminds you of the one vil usually wears. 

“rook…” you face him again, he hums.“you’re not favouring this one because it’s the same as a certain housewarden, are you?” 

colour instantly rushes to his face, “ah, non! i simply think it is a lovely colour.” suuuure.

“well,” you wipe the purple lipstick off and reach into your pocket. “i have a colour suggestion.” rook eyes the tube as you apply it evenly across your lips, a pleasant hum escapes as he takes in the velvety colour. 

you wait a moment as he intently examines the red lipstick with a raised eyebrow, “so?” you question. 

“c’est magnifique! where did you get it?” you shrug. rook begins to ramble off about… something you don’t quite understand. you reach over, taking a hold of his collar and bring him to your height, pressing a kiss to his lips, effectively halting his oncoming tangent. 

rook falters for half of a second, and you take that opportunity to pull him back again, kissing his cheeks. 

you feel his hand snake around your neck, urging you to continue the assault on his features, so you do. you kiss where you can reach, his forehead, nose, lips again, before rook’s practically falling backwards in a fit of childish giggles. 

you have to hold onto the front of his shirt so he doesn’t actually fall back into his vanity. 

rook calms himself enough to take in his disheveled reflection. he tilts his face around, and starts pointing out the spots you missed. 

somewhat shocked, you press kisses where his finger lands, and he’s never been happier.  what an odd guy, this rook hunt. but he’s your odd guy, who loves you and your lipstick kisses very, very much.

you lounge across lilia’s cluttered bed as he plays some first-person shooter game that looks unappealing. he strategically moves his little character around, avoiding enemies and wiping out the opposing team with practiced ease, while occasionally opening and replying to his online friend between kills or matches. 

swiping on magicam has begun to get boring so you decide bothering lilia is a better idea. 

it starts with throwing a pencil at him. then a random stone you found on the floor, then coming up behind him and pushing around his wheeled chair. he swats you away like you’re some fly, trying to pester him to death while he attempts to concentrate. you back away, acting as if you’ve gotten the hint to leave him to his game, but no. 

you feel for the tube in your pocket and apply the lipstick quickly. you return to lilia’s side, innocently watching as he blasts through other players like they’re nothing. each time he eliminates someone you press a kiss to a new spot on his face. he’s too focused to realize you’re leaving red stains behind, which makes it funnier to you. 

his concentration breaks when the round concludes, and he turns to you. only then does lilia realize you’ve been leaving lipstick marks over his face. he reaches up and wipes a finger across his cheek, examining the colour, with a defeated- yet smug- smile. 

you continue as the next round starts but you stop just as his nose scrunches and the screen reads game over, “you really know how to get on an old man's nerves, don’t you?” 

“oh, you’re not that old.” 

lilia opens his mouth to retort, but you beat him to it, “in fae years.” 

you both laugh as he shuts his monitor off, “now, where’s that lipstick?”

“no.”

self indulgent pt 2!!! (sorry for how long this took, anon, i actually don't know why. and ignore if there's any weird formatting problems, i fought with this post too much to care UGH)

masterlist

[solxamber]

"Let's Break Up" with: Vice-Housewardens + Ruggie

more hurt/comfort for the soul

Other parts: Housewardens ; First Years ; Cater, Floyd, Silver

Trey Clover

The words slip out in frustration, sharp and final.

"Let's break up."

The mug in Trey's hand shatters.

The crack of breaking porcelain jolts you, the sound cutting through the tense silence like a gunshot. Shards spill across the floor, tea splattering everywhere, but Trey doesn’t even flinch.

Before you can react, before you can take back what you didn’t mean, he’s there—crossing the space between you in an instant, his uninjured hand cupping your face, warm and trembling.

His chest rises and falls too fast, his breath unsteady. His eyes search yours desperately, raw emotion flickering in their depths. “Please,” he murmurs, voice rough. “Reconsider.”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. His grip tightens, just enough to ground himself, just enough to keep you here, with him.

“Take it back,” he pleads, his forehead nearly pressing against yours. “Tell me you didn’t mean it.”

Your heart is racing, but all you can focus on is his other hand—the one that had been holding the mug. Blood is pooling in the creases of his palm, little crimson beads welling up where porcelain had cut into his skin.

You inhale sharply. “Trey, your hand—”

“I don’t care,” he says, and he means it. He would let it bleed if it meant keeping you here for another second. “Please.”

Something inside you cracks.

Your anger, your frustration—none of it matters when you see the way he’s looking at you. When you hear the break in his voice. When you realize how much he loves you, enough to throw away every bit of his usual calm, enough to bleed for you if it meant making you stay.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice tight with guilt. “I didn’t mean it. I—of course I didn’t mean it.”

His shoulders sag with relief, a shaky breath escaping him as he presses his forehead against yours. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

Your fingers curl around his wrist, pulling his injured hand between both of yours. “We need to take care of this.”

He exhales, his body finally catching up to the pain now that the panic has subsided. “Yeah,” he says, but instead of letting you go, he pulls you into his arms, wrapping you in a firm, desperate embrace.

“I’m sorry too,” he murmurs against your hair. “I didn’t mean for things to get like this. I should’ve listened more. I should’ve—” He swallows hard. “I’ll do better.”

You squeeze him back just as tightly, breathing in the scent of him, the warmth of him, the realness of him. “We both will.”

For a long moment, neither of you move, holding onto each other as if letting go would undo everything. Eventually, you tug him toward the sink, already fussing over his hand.

Trey watches you, still catching his breath, still feeling the lingering ghost of fear in his chest. But for now, you’re here. He's still yours.

And that’s all that matters.

Ruggie Bucchi

The words slip out before you can stop them.

“Let’s break up.”

Ruggie freezes.

For a second, there’s just silence—heavy, suffocating. Then he lets out a laugh, but it’s wrong. It’s forced, brittle, a sound that cracks at the edges.

“That’s a joke, right?” His voice is light, playful—too playful—but his hands reach for yours, gripping them tight. “Your sense of humor sucks.”

His fingers are trembling.

You feel something deep in your chest twist at the sight of him, trying so hard to brush it off, to act like you didn’t just rip the ground out from under him. His tail is stiff behind him, his ears twitching with every unsteady breath he takes.

You want to say something, to take it back, but the argument still lingers in the air between you—frustration, hurt feelings, words neither of you should have said.

He swallows hard, staring at you like he’s willing you to laugh, to say just kidding, to let him believe this isn’t real.

But you don’t.

And in that moment, something in him wavers. His ears droop, and his fingers tighten around yours like he’s scared you’ll slip away if he doesn’t hold on.

His voice is smaller this time.

“…You didn’t mean that.”

You inhale shakily, stepping closer.

“No,” you whisper. “I didn’t.”

He exhales a shaky breath, and before you can say anything else, he’s pulling you into his arms, holding you so tightly it almost knocks the air from your lungs.

His face presses into your neck, his whole body going slack as if he’s only now realizing just how much those words had broken him. You can feel his breath against your skin, uneven, like he’s trying to keep it together, like he doesn’t want you to see how much it hurt.

You hold him just as tightly, one hand coming up to thread through his hair, the other rubbing circles into his back.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs against you. “I shouldn’t’ve—I didn’t mean—”

You shake your head, cutting him off gently. “Me too.”

His arms tighten around you.

For a long time, neither of you speak. He just holds you, pressed close, his tail weakly brushing against your hand in a silent plea—stay.

When he finally pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes are misty, his lip caught between his teeth.

“Don’t say that again.” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not even as a joke."

You cup his cheek, wiping away the dampness there with your thumb.

“I won’t.”

Ruggie exhales shakily, leans into your touch, and this time, when he lets out a breathy laugh, it’s real.

“…Guess we both suck at fighting, huh?”

You let out a weak chuckle, pressing your forehead against his.

“Yeah.”

And for now, that’s enough.

Jade Leech

The words slip out before you can stop them.

"Let’s break up."

Silence.

Jade just stares at you. The ever-present amusement in his eyes is gone, leaving them bare, unguarded in a way that makes your stomach twist. He doesn’t smirk, doesn’t scoff, doesn’t even tilt his head in that condescending way he does when he’s about to say something cutting.

He just looks at you, frozen in place.

You don’t know what you expected—maybe anger, maybe something cruel and sharp to push you further away, to give you an excuse to slam the door behind you. Instead, there’s nothing. Just the way his eyes widen ever so slightly, like you’ve said something impossible.

Your chest feels tight, but you force yourself to turn away. You don’t get more than two steps before a hand grips your wrist—firm, but not forceful. You barely have time to react before he pulls you back, arms wrapping around you from behind, his face pressing into the crook of your neck.

"Don’t go."

It’s a whisper, but it shatters something inside you.

You tense, your breath catching in your throat. And then—you feel it. The faintest, almost imperceptible wetness against your skin.

Jade is crying.

A cold wave of fear crashes over you. You’ve never seen him cry before, never even imagined him capable of it. He’s always so composed, always in control, always one step ahead. But right now, he’s shaking.

Your frustration dissolves instantly, replaced by something heavier, something unbearable.

“I didn’t mean it,” you say, barely able to get the words out. “Jade, I didn’t mean it.”

His grip tightens around you, like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers. His breath is uneven, ragged in a way that makes your heart ache.

You turn in his hold, reaching to cradle his face in your hands. His eyes are glassy, red-rimmed, his expression raw in a way you’ve never seen before. He looks lost.

“I—” His voice breaks, and he swallows hard, trying to compose himself. “I didn’t think… you would ever say that.”

You shake your head, your own eyes stinging. “I was angry. I didn’t mean it.”

For a moment, he just stares at you. Then, with a quiet, shaky exhale, he presses his forehead against yours.

“I pushed you too far,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse.

You close your eyes, fingers curling into his shirt. “And I let it get to me.”

Neither of you say anything after that. You just stand there, holding each other, breathing in the quiet between you. The storm of emotions still lingers, but it’s softer now, no longer a force trying to tear you apart.

Jade exhales slowly, his hands settling on your back, grounding himself. When he finally speaks again, his voice is steadier—but there’s still a fragility to it, something uncertain.

“Don’t do that again,” he whispers.

You nod, wiping a stray tear from his cheek with your thumb.

“I won’t,” you promise.

He doesn’t let go for a long, long time.

Jamil Viper

The words leave your lips before you can stop them. Sharp, impulsive, thrown like a dagger meant to wound.

“Let’s break up.”

The room falls into an unnatural silence.

Jamil stands frozen, his expression unreadable—no anger, no sadness, just… blank. It’s unsettling. You almost wish he’d lash out, argue, anything but this suffocating stillness.

Then, he laughs.

It’s soft, bitter—nothing like the amused chuckles you love hearing from him.

“…Okay,” he says.

Two syllables. Two syllables and he sounds so distant, so removed, like he’s already walking away from this, from you. Like it doesn’t matter.

But it does. It does, you can see it in the way his hands are clenched into fists at his sides, in the way his breath shudders ever so slightly, like he’s forcing himself to stay composed. Like he’s holding himself together by sheer will alone.

“If that’s how little this meant to you…” His voice is calm, even. A practiced neutrality. But you hear it—the smallest break, a splinter of something raw and aching beneath the surface. “Then fine.”

And he turns away.

And you see them.

The tears in his eyes.

He turns too late to hide them from you, but he still tries, tilting his head just enough that you almost don’t catch it. The effort, the control, the desperate attempt to maintain his composure even now.

Your stomach twists violently.

“Jamil.”

You reach for him without thinking, grabbing his wrist, tugging him back. His skin is warm beneath your touch, but his body is stiff, unyielding. He doesn’t move, doesn’t look at you.

You don’t let go.

“I didn’t mean it,” you breathe, voice shaking. You’re already shifting closer, hands moving from his wrist to his arm, to his shoulders, to his face, desperate to get him to look at you. “I didn’t mean it, I swear.”

His breath catches. He still won’t meet your eyes.

“You can’t just say things like that.” His voice cracks, and your heart breaks into pieces. “You can’t.”

The weight of what you’ve done crashes down on you. You had wanted to make him feel the frustration, the anger, the helplessness you’d felt in the heat of the argument. But not like this. Never like this.

His shoulders shake.

“Jamil…” Your hands cradle his face now, fingers trembling as you wipe at the tears streaking his cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

For a moment, he stays frozen beneath your touch.

Then, with a shuddering breath, he moves.

His hands grasp at the fabric of your clothes, clutching onto you as if you might disappear if he doesn’t hold on tightly enough. The tension that’s held him rigid for so long crumbles, and he presses his forehead against your shoulder, his entire body trembling.

“I don’t want to fight,” he whispers. “I don’t—” A breath, uneven, desperate. “I don’t want to lose you.”

The sheer vulnerability in his voice threatens to unravel you.

“You won’t,” you swear, voice raw with emotion. “You won’t.”

He lets out something like a laugh, but it’s broken, strained, wet with the remnants of unshed tears.

Then, his legs give out beneath him, and you both sink to the floor, tangled together, arms wrapped around each other like lifelines.

Neither of you let go.

Rook Hunt

"Let's break up."

The words barely leave your lips before Rook is on you.

One second, he’s standing before you, the next, he’s grasping at your arms, pulling you close, desperate. His hands tremble as they cradle your face, and his voice—normally so composed, so theatrical in its beauty—is breaking apart at the seams.

"Non, mon amour, non, non, non—tu ne peux pas—please, don’t do this." His words spill out in frantic, overlapping murmurs, a tangled mix of languages, as if one language alone isn’t enough to hold the depth of his despair. His breath is uneven, his hold almost frantic. "Je t’en supplie, tell me this is but a cruel jest. Tell me you do not mean it!"

You’ve never seen Rook like this before.

You've seen Rook in many states—amused, playful, reverent, even solemn—but never like this. Never so utterly shattered. His eyes, always gleaming with some unreadable mystery, are bare now, stripped of all their usual playfulness. He looks at you like a man standing at the gallows, waiting for the final blow.

His hands tighten around you, as though afraid you might slip through his fingers. "I will fix it, I swear it! Whatever it is, however I have failed you, tell me, je t'en prie! Let me make amends!" His voice hitches, and when you finally dare to meet his gaze, your breath catches.

His eyes—so often gleaming with mirth, with mischief—are glossy with unshed tears.

Your heart clenches. "Rook—"

His hands cradle your cheeks, thumbs brushing over your skin with a reverence that makes your chest ache. "I love you, mon cœur. I love you more than words can weave, more than poetry can hold." His voice breaks—an unsteady breath, barely a whisper—"Ne me quitte pas."

You reach up, pressing your hands over his, steadying them. "Rook, stop."

He freezes, breath caught in his throat, as if waiting for a verdict that will decide his fate.

You swallow past the lump in your throat. “I didn’t mean it.”

For a moment, neither of you move.

Then, a sharp inhale—a breath of air after near drowning—and suddenly, he’s crushing you against him, arms winding around you with near bruising force.

"Mon dieu," he breathes, his face buried in your shoulder. "Merci, merci, merci—" His grip tightens, as if he still can’t quite believe it, like he needs to feel every inch of you to be sure you’re still here.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper against him, voice thick with emotion.

"Non, mon amour, I'm sorry." He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, shaking his head, remorse etched deep into every line of his face. “I have hurt you, haven’t I? Tell me how, tell me where, and I shall do better, I promise.”

You nod, hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. "Then we’ll both do better."

A breathless laugh escapes him, half relief, half lingering disbelief. And then he's pulling you close again, arms firm around you, his lips pressing against your temple, your hair, your hands—anywhere he can reach as if to assure himself you won’t slip away.

And you let him, because neither of you are willing to let go.

Lilia Vanrouge

"Let's break up."

At first, Lilia laughs.

It’s soft, breathy—almost amused. “Oh, that’s quite the joke,” he chuckles, his usual teasing lilt in place. “You nearly had me for a second.”

You don’t respond. You just look at him, expression unreadable, arms crossed, waiting.

His smile twitches, just barely, but you catch it. His amusement fades as realization sinks in, and something shifts in his eyes.

“…Oh.”

The room feels quieter now, despite the argument that had sparked this in the first place. He tilts his head, as if examining you from another angle will make this not real. Then, slowly, he reaches for you, his movements careful in a way that is deeply uncharacteristic of him. His fingers hover near your face, uncertain, hesitant—like he’s waiting for you to flinch, waiting for you to pull away.

"Come now," he says, softer now, a touch strained. "Don't do this. You don't mean it."

Your lips press into a thin line. You’re still frustrated, still convinced you have a point, but the sight of him—his sharp, knowing eyes turning glassy, the slight tremor in his breath—makes something uneasy settle in your chest.

"Lilia," you say, but you don’t get to finish.

Because he pulls you in.

His grip isn’t suffocating, but it’s desperate. One hand cradles the back of your head while the other clings to your waist, firm and pleading. His breathing is uneven, his usually composed demeanor cracking at the edges.

"I—" He stops, swallows, tries again. "I am sorry. I never meant to make you feel like this." His voice is quiet now, almost fragile. "If you truly wish to leave, I won’t stop you. But please, tell me—tell me this was only spoken in anger."

You exhale, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders, feeling the tension in them. His heartbeat is rapid against your own, and for the first time since knowing him, you think he’s the one who might fall apart first.

"It was," you say at last, barely steady. "I didn’t mean it."

Lilia lets out a breath that shakes, just slightly, before pulling you in impossibly closer. His fingers curl against you, grip tightening for a fraction of a second before he steadies himself.

He exhales a weak laugh against your skin, a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You mustn’t be so cruel to this old heart of mine,” he murmurs, his voice uneven with something too raw to name. “One day, you’ll be the death of me.”

His hold lingers—just a little longer than necessary—before he pulls back, just enough to look you in the eyes. There’s something softer in his gaze now, something fragile and achingly sincere.

"Promise me," he says, and though his voice is gentle, it leaves no room for refusal. "Never again."

You huff softly. "Alright."

Lilia presses his forehead to yours, exhaling slowly. “And I’m sorry for pushing you to that point.” His voice is quieter now, reverent. “I love you.”

You nod, your grip tightening around him. “I love you too.”

Lilia hums, gently swaying as he holds you. “Then let’s stay like this a little longer, hm?”

And you do. You stay, wrapped in his arms, letting the warmth of his embrace soothe the lingering ache.

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