#epel twisted wonderland

[akechisu1]

[blackopals-world]

Vet!Yuu: In a wolf pack the pups receive preferential treatment when they want something. They will behave submissively and beg until older members of the pack give them what they want. No matter how much they resist its natural instincts to give in to pups. This is called puppy privilege.

Epel: Give me some of your sandwich. Vil switched me to gluten free bread and I'm dying.

Jack: No.

Epel: Please!

Jack: No.

Epel:(Puppy dog eyes)

Jack: Fine, take it.

[sinofthesloth]

so how do you think Epel, Vil, Malleus, Azul and Jack Howl would deal with a crush who actually starts running at them and hugging them as a greeting after a couple months of knowing the boys? (The hugs only seem to be reserved for the boys. Crush clearly has a favourite. Probably horrifies people when they first do this to Malleus). Like their senses tingle and they bee line for the boys and suddenly the boys are being hugged by this human with golden retriever energy from behind or somehow this person had teleported in front of them and hugged?

Hey Sin here, not sure if you want all the boys together since you wrote, "Crush clearly has a favourite." but I am going to separate so each boy has his own part. Sorry if this is not how you wanted them. Also this is my first time doing an ask, so thank you for sending one in!

Content/Warnings: Jack's part is more of a general day of school, Epel's part is centered around the Song and Dance Competition (Epel's part has slight angst and talks about Vil's overblot) Azul's part talks about his overblot, Vil's part talks about his fangirls, and Malleus part talks about Sebek a good bit. (I love him) Requested: Yes by @nesting-dreams Word Count: At least 400 per boy. Written: December 1st. Characters: Jack, Epel, Azul, Vil, and Malleus

Jack

At first the hugs didn't confuse Jack. He took in stride and squeezed back. He had younger siblings and knows that sometimes a hug is just what a person needs to get by. He had known you for quite some time.

He was there for Leona's as well as Azul's overblots. He knows the kind of stress that has been put on you, and he wants you to know he will always be there for you.

Jack started to notice his crush on you when he would make eye contact with you across the courtyard and you started to make a dash to him. At first he thought it was cute, but day after day, he started waiting for you. It was a slow realization, but after Deuce called his tail wagging out at the track field, man was embarrassed.

He also noticed you didn't hug the others like you'd hug him. If he was looking away, you'd softly wrap your arms around him. If he was in a group, you'd make sure he saw you coming first. But every time you'd hug any of the other boys it was always a side hug. You would also press him into yourself as much as you could when you hugged him.

He just hoped you wouldn't notice his tail wagging each time you held him close.

Epel

You've seen each other in classes before, but you didn't speak more than a few short sentences with each other. Just enough to know his name and a few facts about him. You two finally got much closer during the Song and Dance competition.

During the first night they all stayed at the Ramshackle dorm, you made your rounds making sure everyone was comfortable. You didn't need Kalim's family to come after you nor did you need Vil's fangirls finding out you didn't bend to the man's every whim. Epel was the last one you checked on before heading into your own dorm room. It was clear he was upset.

That night you sat with Epel into the late hours. He talked about how worried he was. How he felt that he was always underestimated thanks to his feminine looks, and how he knew he would never live up to Vil's standards of him. Of the standards he put upon himself. He talked about how he always put his best foot forward in fear others will never give him a chance if he didn't. He works this hard only to prove he is capable.

That was the first time you hugged him. Since then, every morning you gave him a quick squeeze before serving everyone breakfast within Vil's restrictions. You'd hug him before practice, after practice, during breaks, during lunch, after classes. Anytime you could spare to hug him, you did. You wanted to show him you cared.

At first he'd give you a light tap on the back, but as time passed he fell in love with holding you against him. He was enjoying these hugs these past two weeks. He enjoyed the encouragement and praise you'd give him and it was clear to Rook and Vil how Epel was changing. He was trying harder, he was more attentive, he was doing anything to prove himself to both you and his dorm leaders.

After Vil's overblot, you beelined it for Epel. Grabbing him with one hand in his hair and the other pressing his chest into yours. He wasn't letting you go anytime soon. He could take the whispering comments of the first years and the mumbles of his dorm leaders later.

Azul

Azul wasn't nice to you before his overblot. He used you, used your friends, used his friends and did many other horrendous actions. No matter what he said during his moment of weakness was an excuse to do what he did, but that didn't stop you from taking his words to heart. He was a scared, hurt child. Still was in some sense. He was coming down from his overblot when you hugged him. He held onto you as he cried. All you could do was help him hide his face in your chest as whisper sweet nothing as he latched onto you sobbing.

As time passed, you grew closer to him. He wouldn't talk about the overblot and you wouldn't bring it up. No one knew why you started to randomly walk up to him and hug him. Half the time you wouldn't even give Ace or Deuce a front hug like you did him. Azul refused to drop the boss-man attitude but if anyone looked as close as the twins did, they'd see the way he would twist the back of your shirt with how tight his grip on you was.

Sometimes, when you were behind him, you'd run up and squeeze him from behind, taking him by surprise. That was the only time his face would be covered in apple-red blush. He'd clear his throat and scold you, before opening his arms for you to give him a proper hug.

He couldn't hide his crush from the twins. They'd talk about how you wouldn't give anyone a front hug, much less one from behind. Just recalling it made his face explode.

He grew addicted to see you. Especially from afar. If you thought he'd make it out of a room before you could reach him, you'd run up and tackle him into a hug.

Vil

Vil was never a hard man to find. Just follow the trail of glitter or the clicking of phone cameras. You don't really remember how the two of you got close. It definitely might have been when you were running from Rook and leeched onto Vil to hide behind. From there, the three of you bloomed an odd friendship.

Vil catches on immediately, and in the beginning of it, he does try to get you to stop. Not just for his image, but yours as well. There have been videos of you running up and jumping on him for a hug. A few of you hold him for just a moment to long and pictures upon pictures of the two of you.

There are multiple theories about the two of you online. Rook loves reading these out loud to Vil while he is getting ready for the day. Seeing his face tint with a cherry red color always puts a smile on Rook's face.

It gets to the point that you'll stop hugging him and instead wave or jokingly bow toward him instead. Which just ignites a fire on the internet. His fangirls want to know if y'all broke up? If y'all were ever together? What happened? Why aren't you hugging anymore? Vil didn't know what to do. He seemingly was going through a mode. Rook called them withdrawals. Epel was just annoyed both for you and because of you.

By the end of a week and the swarm of questions on all his posts, he talks to you about it. Asks what you believed would be best. "No matter what you do, you are in the public's eye. Do what makes you happy." You wouldn't hug him until he made a decision himself. You didn't want to push him one way or another. Another week passed, and he noticed how you didn't hug others the way you hugged him. Ace would get side hugs, and Deuce would get hugs where you wouldn't fully wrap your arms around him. He seemed to be the only one you'd throw your arms around the neck of.

He was glad he was the only one you'd hold like this. His decision wasn't any easier, but he knew he missed your hugs. "Maybe behind close doors."

"You can always just start dating them." Epel commented.

Malleus

(- He is extremely ooc and I hate it, so I'll be fixing it soon. Hopefully after class)

As soon as you attempted to sneak up on Malleus, Sebek is there to call you out. He would be snatching you off the ground before you made it twelve feet in range of Malleus.

The hugs started the night of Vil's overblot. He visited to check up on you, and you didn't know how to thank him. He talked about it for days afterward. Lilia was the one to bring up sneaking up on him for a hug. You've hugged him at least once a day since. Sebek is distraught any, and every time he sees you hugging. Marching over to promptly remove you from Malleus.

If you can make it to him when running up to him, he will laugh before lifting you up as you jump into his arms. It also takes him an embarrassingly long time to realize that you don't hug others like you hug him. He doesn't fully understand the deeply rooted pride his has over this. He also doesn't notice how much he looks forward to your hugs until you're sick one day.

Lilia has to drag this man out of your dorm because he was trying to cuddle up into your bed with you. He just wanted a hug. You promised to give him two tomorrow and with that he left. Leave you some soup and medicine after Silver explains that since you're magicless, there is no way of telling how your body would handle it.

Sebek was mortified. The prince of fae was crawling into the bed of a human. Lilia was dying of laughter as the prince sulkingly walked back to the hall of mirrors. It was clear to those who were close to him that he had fallen in love with a human, those that weren't feared the upset dragon-fae.

No worries. As soon as you hugged him the next day, everyone was wiping out their phones to capture photos. It was spreading like wildfire, and when he returned to his grandmother for the holidays, she asked where you were.

Hope you enjoy trying new foods and being surrounded by multiple suits of armor.

[demon-lover-669]

Ace: how was your summer at Epel’s family farm?

Epel: they are allergic to mosquito bites and didn’t tell me…

Y/n: *covered in huge red patches* i didn’t want to say no I can’t come to the farm and make you sad…

Epel: YOU SHOULD HAVE SAID YOU HAD AN ALLERGY!

[theminiartblog]

I loved the Harveston event with my whole chest-

[twistwonderlanddevotee]

[kanroji-san]

Rook: I asked Yuu out

Epel: Oh, I’m sorry-

Rook: Why?

Epel: Well, I assume they said no

Rook: No, they said yes

Epel: Really? ...Then I’m sorry for them

[tsukii0002]

Ace: Yeah, we first years are very close.

Yuu: Why? you may ask, well...

Ace: There is nothing that unites you more than fighting together against the overblot of your dorm housewarden.

Deuce: ... They are right.

Jack: Yeah

Epel: So... shared traumas?

Sebek: ...

Ortho: It's still curious for me that it has happened more than once.

.

.

[harfanfare]

If that's okay could i request it for Epel?

How to win the heart of Epel Felmier?

a/n: Thank you for requesting~~ Dear Readers, while I am not a native English speaker, I wrote this ff in the English-pronounciation (?) mindset that “Epel” and “Apple” sound very similar. If it’s not all that similar, may Reader be too obsessed with apples to have that selective hearing when it comes to Epel’s name or let’s blame it on the Harveston’s dialect, haha

Be a zealous apple lover.

You envy this boy’s name.

“Apple”? What a majestic word to be named after. The first time you’ve heard a woman calling someone like that, you remember stilling in place and whooping your head at a ten-year-old boy who yelled that he was coming.

And he… doesn’t look like an apple. Maybe you weren’t expecting a walking apple, nor a boy with red hair dressed in all browns, carrying a big basket of apples (and of course, eating one in the other hand) like a character created for a show whose audience is a tad younger than you, but none of the apples you know turn purple.

Never have you imagined someone with such a beautiful name would move so wobbly in snow, the sledge he dragged behind definitely too heavy.

The realization of how unfitting this name was makes you lose a grip on the basket of fabric you got from one of your new neighbours. Well, everyone here is “new” if you just came into this little village just three days ago.

That boy notices you. He must have heard the news because a flash of recognition paints itself on his face. You didn’t return a shy smile at the staring, even if you wanted to. You remember your cheeks prickling from the freezing wind when you bolted home as the apple boy looked like he wanted to say something.

“He doesn’t look like an apple,” you argue with your mother that night, as she kisses your temple goodnight.

“Maybe not. But I would have loved you two to be friends…” Your mother stops in her words as you roll your eyes at her and pout with all your might. She suppresses a laugh that you would take to your heart. “…But, maybe I should be glad he doesn’t resemble an apple at all? You would have fallen head over heels in love with him if he did.”

Yeah, your mother doesn’t need to look so happy as you grew agitated.

“I wouldn’t!” You protest loudly and bury yourself deeper into bed sheets even if your face grows hotter. Maybe of the embarrassment, maybe of the fury, but surely not because of the boy. “I would never fall in love with a boy like him. And I don’t want you to talk about this to anyone!”

You remember your mother’s eyes twinkling with utter amusement. “Yes, yes, all right.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

2. Challenge Apple to a sled race.

Maybe it’s the fault of far too many action films being aired on TV, yet the idea of being able to win anything a fight was stuck in your head.

Some limited part of your brain thought that, hm, Apple might just give up his name to you if you won in this town’s most famous activity: the Harveston’s Sled Race. It seemed only appropriate for you to pick something the boy must know, even if you had only got your first sledge barely two weeks ago.

“Ya… want my name?” Apple blinks as you grow irate when you repeat your offer once again. You remember rolling your eyes ostentatiously at him, and Apple huffing loudly at you. “What does it even mean, duh?”

He crosses his arms and glared at you. He has the advantage of being just a little bit taller than you, but thankfully, his The-Great-Seven-Better-Bless-Her grandmother never ceases to dress him in fluffy, puffy clothes, always in pastel colours; the cute pompom on top of his beanie and shawl in the adorable pink shade made him much less imposing.

“Whoever wins in this sledge race will be called Apple,” you repeat. Apple squints his eyes at you. “I like this name so much, you have no idea. Please give it up to me.”

“Oh.”

You have no idea why his face slowly turned red. If you knew better, you would have used this opportunity to tease him, but little you didn’t want to mock a newly met boy, even if you just threw down a gauntlet for his name.

“It’s a normal name….” He mutters, and before you can protest, he draws his eyes to you, somehow redeeming you speechless. “…But I’ll challenge you if that’s what you wanna do.”

Huh. You weren’t expecting him to agree so easily.

…Nor were you expecting him to glide on the snow with his sledge. He looked frail enough to not care about things like rides and thought that it would give you the advantage. It did not. Apple flew or used magic, or illusions because he rode so fast the snow beneath him barely left a trace.

That was some cool skill, even if you hated how awed you were.

It seems like you challenged the wrong boy because this one wins with ease.

“Sorry,” he says with flushed cheeks, and his deep breaths create little warm clouds in freezing air. He lays on the snow, and his fringe sticks to his forehead. He has won, and it was a tough victory yet a well-earned one. “I will still be the only Epel in this town.” He shifts his gaze on you. “So. What’s your name?”

Well, he is a (treacherous) winner. You give your name to him.

He smiles slightly, he repeats it slowly and goes quiet. You look over to see him open his eyes from reverie and bright lights dance in his eyes.

“It’s nice. I think it suits you well.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

3. Have some baking skills.

“Epel, dear. We’ll be having our little neighbour helping us this year’s festival, so please show how responsible can you be and teach [Name] how to prepare apples for the pies.”

Ugh. If only Grandma Marja wasn’t so kind, you would have been protesting more.

Apple looks at you and you frown slightly as he sighs at your sight.

“You again?”

And because Grandma Marja already left, you feel free to announce your displeasure with the situation as well. Sadly, there are no other kids your age in this village, so you are probably bound to accompany him for the rest of your whole life here as he’s your only peer.

“Unfortunately.”

Apple hands you an apron, before ordering you to wash your hands. Because the kitchen island is too occupied with other dishes and too high for any of you without a stool, you take a seat next to a coffee table that was impractically set between the salon and kitchen, leaving just enough space to create a narrow route from one room to another.

“Have you ever baked an apple pie before?” He asks and you shake your head. His brows furrow slightly as he thinks whether you will be a help here at all. “So, it will be a long day…”

He better not write you off before you can even start.

You cross your arms. “Test me first, complain later... if ever.”

“I’m not complaining. But we have a knife and a peeler. Oh, and it hurts if you get cut. You should take it slowly and be careful,” he adds and hops to the other room to grab a basket full of apples. He lays it between you two.

Apple doesn’t let you use a knife.

“I am older than you,” he says and takes an apple from you to cut it into even pieces. You don’t notice the skill he has to make careful cuts precise and clean, as you glare at him.

“Barely.”

The few-month gap in your age isn’t enough to stop you from insisting that you can do more complicated things than just peeling apples. That’s some arduous work, especially when the peeler doesn’t cooperate and the thin fruit’s skin gets stuck between the blades.

So, Apple, who couldn’t contain that last annoyed sigh, finally lends you a knife. He instructs you, but after several times that you tell him you know what are you doing, he hesitantly goes back to his work. You could feel a worried gaze at you nonetheless, and at one time you looked over your shoulder to see him staring at you.

And that’s when the knife slips from your hands.

You don’t scream, but a gasp and a sudden flinch gives you away.

“Aaaand that’s what I was saying,” he immediately drops the apple he was taking care of, and stands next to you, scrutinizing the cut. It’s not bigger than a paper cut, yet it’s a bit deeper and stings as much. You quickly hide your hands from him. “Go take your hand under the cold water. I will get some bandages.”

He gets some. He then orders you—” I am the older one here and I was right before, so I am in charge between us two,” as you were told—to sit on the sofa as he carefully wraps one bandage around your finger. The gesture it’s almost cute from him, but it doesn’t lift your foul mood at all.

“I made more trouble than I’ve helped,” you say quietly. Epel looks at you, a bit surprised.

“You sayin’ that this little cut is making you quit?” And now he has that stupid smile on his lips that makes your blood not boil, but warm up at least five degrees. “Awh, poor thing.”

You get up in a hurry.

“…I didn’t say that.”

“Then don’t give up like that,” he chastises you, but he can’t hide a (still very stupid) smile when you pass him to get to the kitchen counter. “But be more careful from now. No one wants to eat a bloody apple pie.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

4. Get into NRC and survive a shock.

Over the years, you’ve become friends, close enough to plan to go to college together, if the opportunity arises. It did.

“Cheers!”

The perfect way to celebrate getting into NRC is with a soft drink, sparkling soda and a big plate of snacks. Although you bought chips for the occasion, your and Apple’s parents prepared a pile of homemade goodies and they couldn’t compare to those store-bought.

Your can clinks against Apple’s and you take a sip.

“It’s not like I ever thought of Night Raven Collage rejecting the best candidates ever,” Apple says with a sigh. Only today you can notice how stiff he was before; although he’d been playing it cool, he was tense all the time. “But that’s one burden off your chest.”

You nod in agreement and look at the acceptance papers once again. When a time will come, carriages with Gates will come for you two… And that’s a thrilling thought.

“This document looks so official,” you say. “What a pretty paper. It looks so elegant.”

Apple empties his can and briefly glances at you.

“Nothin’ special about it…”

And because you want to see the comparison (maybe there are hidden hints where you might be allocated to by the Dark Mirror?), you take his document. The first thing that crosses your mind, is that there is something wrong with his name.

“Wait,” you shriek loudly, and Apple shudders from surprise. He would chastise you for screaming so loud if you didn’t look so worried. “They spelled your name wrong!”

“Huh?” Apple feels a pang of horror, the same you feel when you tap your pockets in search of your phone. As if he found it, once he reads the top of the document again, he relaxes. His lips form into a thin line: he thinks you are pranking him. “No way. Everything is correct.”

“No, look here. Your name, Apple!”

“It’s… Correct.”

“E- P- E- L. And your name is A- P- P- L- E, no?”

“…What?” Epel, not Apple, looks surprised but not as surprised as you. “You thought my name was ‘Apple’ for all those years?!”

You bite your lip to not question it. Is it not? Your cheeks burn from embarrassment, and your heart feels heavy as if you have just betrayed your best friend. It never crossed your mind to have him write down his name, and there wasn’t a reason for him to do so: in this small town there is no school, neither are there the tests you need to sign.

“…I’m sorry.” You stutter, and Epel brushes the crumbs off from his blouse and gets up.

“Goodbye,” he says, making his way towards the door. He doesn’t seem that upset over the whole thing, as much as confused. Tomorrow everything will return to normality, but Epel will have a top-tier teasing material for years. “That’s too many revelations for today.”

“Wait, Epel!”

“Go to ya Apple boy.”

“No!! I said I’m sorry!”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎

5. Get sorted into any dorm but Pomefiore.

“Stop laughing.”

“I can’t…! Ha…”

You take a big breath to calm yourself down, but once you look up at Epel and his grimace, it’s impossible to not burst out laughing so loud and so breath-taking you drop to the floor. Epel nudges you. You might be in his room, yet he knows if he’ll be too loud, someone will come to shush you two.

And maybe they will punish him, but Epel isn’t familiar with Pomefiore’s customs, so he doesn’t know what to expect.

“How come you got sorted into another dorm, while we are practically the same?” Epel mumbles, lying down on his bed. The sheets are heavy yet comfortable, luxurious like the whole room. It feels like a museum here, where each item is more valuable than your life and you need permission to rearrange the interior.

To Epel, Pomefiore is the worst dorm. He remembers you teasing him about getting sorted to Pomefiore, but neither of you thought it would come true. It’s too stiff, too restrictive and cares too much about appearances. Epel’s heart feels heavy at the thought of the next four years here.

“Maybe Dark Mirror doesn’t sort the dorm judging by the alikeness of two last brain cells but the shape and colour of the soul,” you nudge him back, waking him up from his reverie.

“Or maybe it didn’t get any input of brain cells from you.”

“Well, your desire to be the prettiest boy in the town got to it, so I think it functions well.”

You chuckle at the dead glare he throws you.

Epel finally sighs.

“…I would like to change the dorms.”

“I don't know whether the Dark Mirror accepts complaints,” you tease him. The gloom is abruptly replaced by irritation, and that’s nice. An angry Epel is better than a devastated Epel. “But if you ever want to escape for a while, you are welcome in my room. We can have a sleepover whenever you want.”

“…Thank you.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

5.5. Sorted into Pomefiore exception.

“You ain’t elegant at all, though.”

“It seems like my elegance bleaks in comparison to yours, pretty boy.”

“You are blind.”

Epel tries to push you away, but you sidestep while giggling. He glares at you, and thankfully, his eyes don’t seem that sad. When he returned to his seat after getting sorted to Pomefiore, he looked bewildered, as if he suddenly wasn’t in the NRC he dreamed of but some other, less-dreamlike school.

You remember him blinking back tears, but maybe not from sadness—thankfully, Epel doesn’t pity himself—but melancholy, as if he just lost something he didn’t even have. Maybe also fury and confusion.

“It will be fun to stay here together,” you prompt, and Epel sighs but a trace of a smile appears on his lips. Thank Great Sevens for the little lights that brighten the azure tones in his eyes.

“Guess I’m stuck being your neighbour forever.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“No?”

“Of course not. You already know how great friend I can be.”

“…I guess you’re right,” he sticks out his tongue. Vil will have a lot of work if he wants to make him a fine gentleman. Well. You will take any version of Epel, even the pettiest and most teasing one, so it’s Vil’s burden to bear. “Kind of.”

You pout at him, but a quiet smile breaks your coolness. “So petty.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

6. Listen to your manly man complain about Vil.

After several weeks in NRC, you could tell Epel still hasn’t gotten used to Pomefiore, and especially its leader.

“I can’t handle him pointing out each… well, everything!” He hides his face in his hands and sluggishly rubs his eyes; he looks tired enough even if Pomefiore must have those eight hours of sleep every night mandatory. “He would find wrongdoings in the way I breathe.”

“I would too. You don’t breathe as much through your nose as you think you do. That’s so very unhealthy, Epel. Your skin will be ruined in the next week of running.”

Epel throws you a warning look as if you had hit the nail with your talk. “Stop or I will strangle you with a pillow in your sleep. I already have Ace on my list.”

You chuckle at a threat, and Epel rolls his eyes. “How dramatic.”

“I have enough drama in my life,” he continues, and you can feel from his tone that he either suppresses the sigh. No apathy or fury anymore, though. Pomefiore must be slowly growing on him, and you take it as a good sign. “My two upperclassmen are going to be a death of me. I don’t know how could I end up in Pomefiore. This kind of lifestyle doesn’t suit me.”

“You complain about them a lot, but, in reality, you look up to him, no?” You tease. “Even you can say the beauty he possesses is influential and somewhat powerful.”

“He might look majestically but it doesn’t make him any less annoying. Now, let’s stop talking about him.”

“Why not? I might become Vil Schoenheit’s fan.”

He clasps his hands on your mouth, so you have to fully focus on his glaring.

“You can’t. You are my fan.”

You pout but after he takes his hands off you, a lopsided smile cracks your lips. “I guess you’re right.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

7. Argue, duh.

That’s a hobby of you two, although a risky one. It always leaves a weight on your heart, because you cannot not care for Epel. While jokes and sarcasm are never intended to hurt any of you, and you can almost always distance yourself from teasing comments, his every word is precious to you.

“Don’t be a killjoy,” would make you roll your eyes if Epel didn’t look so serious. Your smile falters, and something in your stomach twists. You know this conversation was going to end in an argument even before he glowered at you.

“Hey, don’t say it like that,” you stutter the words, placing a hand on his arm. It would come as a reassuring gesture, yet Epel made an effort to move a seat away, and your arm fell aimlessly, sadly. “I am just worried about our grades. That have. Uh. Dropped marginally.”

You stare at your shoes because listening to your best friend being displeased with you so greatly is heartbreaking.

“We have the whole weekend ahead of us to study,” he argued. “Be serious. You don’t want me to go, because you weren’t invited, isn’t that so?”

You sigh. You’ve never expected to be invited to each of their meetings: they are Epel’s friends, and you have yours.

While you knew Ace and Deuce were delightful company, you always thought Epel would choose you over them, even if you suggested something as unentertaining as studying because you would do the same.

You were wrong, after all. Maybe that’s the difference of willpower between a just-a-friends mindset and having a crush on him. Do you really have a crush on him, though? Or maybe you’ve expected too much from a childhood friendship.

“Well, no. I mean, I would love to be invited, but—”

“We don’t need to hang out together every time we have a spare afternoon,” he said, and while it was a true statement, it hurt. If you weren’t able to somehow steel your nerves, you would know you wouldn’t be able to bear the prickling in your eyes. Epel’s next suggestion comes as a whisper. “Sometimes… We should take a break from each other, ya know? And I need to figure, uh, something out.”

The news shocks you so much, that you don’t notice how he visibly abstains from lifting a hand to his chest.

Well. You always knew you were a hopeless romantic.

“Breaks from each other, huh…”

You take in the phrase in silence. Epel takes this chance as an opportunity to gather his things and pack them.

“…I’ll be leaving. Good luck studying or whatever.”

“…Alright. Have—” fun, you wanted to say, but the door shut and Epel left you alone.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

8. Go through the silent treatment phase.

After a week of awkward conversations, Epel has forgotten about that talk. The pain in your chest dulled and you were growing indifferent as if you were watching a show—your life—that started to bore you, not engaging you at all.

You stared blankly at the screen of your phone.

— today —

Epel: Hey

Epel: are u free todya?? you’ve been so absent last weeks >:((

Epel: Grim and prefect invited us for gaming night

Epel: dont ya DARE do skip it again

— seen: now —

…Yeah. You feel nothing, maybe only a little sad at the memory when you felt so vivid and happy when you got a message from Epel.

“No, sorry, I am busy with studying lol,” you type, and while you know that excuse will wear out in the next few days, for as much as you’ve been using it for the last week to avoid hanging out with Epel, your (ex-?) best friend starts to type something. He will protest and argue and try to convince you, but you don’t want to talk today. “Maybe next time.”

So you turn off your phone, sinking deeper into the pillows on your bed.

You don’t have the energy to confront Epel right now.

And that’s it.

…

You fell into a slumber deep enough to not hear the hesitant-turned-frantic knocking to your room.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

9. Let Epel hear the advice of unreliable gurus of love.

They are really unreliable, look messy, and they judge you. The worst kind of people to go for (love?) advice, but Epel assures himself that he needs honesty, not a pat on his back or a shoulder to cry on. He also is out of other options.

Moreover, he would like to cry nowhere near Ace, who would obviously mock him. Even now it’s hard to have a heart-to-heart conversation when he and Deuce chomp on some type of dessert and some awfully happy music from videogame plays in the back of the room. “So? What did you do?”

“Ace,” Deuce is kind enough to elbow Ace in the stomach when Epel’s stoic expression falters.

His shoulders drop. “No, he… He is kinda right.”

Ace throws a winning smile but moves too far away from Deuce to have him punch him for the cheekiness. “’ Kinda’?”

“…Totally right,” Epel finally admits. “[Name] has been avoiding me and I have no idea what should I do,” He throws his arms on the table, and almost hides his face in the palms of his hands. Instead, he moves away the strands of his unruly hair. “Ugh. Why I am even asking you guys to help me? You’re even worse at this kind of thing.”

“Speak for yourself. And Deuce,” Ace cuts him off. And before Deuce can do anything else than glare at him, Ace shifts closer to Epel and throws an arm over his shoulder so he has to hunch. “Epel, question: what is “this kind of thing”. You mean… as in friendships or dating?”

Deuce looks shocked, even so more than Epel. “Dating?!”

“Why are you even so shocked?” Ace asks him, furrowing his eyebrows. When Deuce starts to ponder over his words, he rolls his eyes. “[Name] probably have had a crush on this imbecile”— he points his fork at Epel—” for damn years now, if I had to guess”.

“Years?!”

“Thank you for the dramatic echo effect again, Deuce,” Ace snarls and finally focuses on Epel. Too distracted with a bickering between his friends, his spirits lift up a little. “And you, Epel. Pull yourself together. Do you want to sever the relationship? Do nothing. Do you want to be friends? Apologize to [Name] and try to patch the bond. Do you want to be in a relationship? …Welp, figure out that for yourself.”

…

“Amazing advice, Ace,” Deuce claps his hands theatrically.

He sticks out his tongue and winks. “You could never give a better one.”

Epel gets up from his seat.

“Thanks, you two. I… will do something.”

“Good luck,” Ace waves at him as Epel makes his way over to the door. “If it works out, you owe us a free drink. Especially me.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

10. Have Epel fight for your love!!

It’s hard to find someone when the person knows your schedule and actively tries to avoid you. Choosing more roundabout corridors and sacrificing your wallet to have most of your meals in Monstro Longue instead of the cafeteria are only some of the things you did to avoid encountering Epel.

But he didn’t give up, and maybe his tenacity is what makes you oblige Epel once he finds you.

You don’t question him when he grabs your hand and asks you to skip the last lesson with him that feels almost unimportant as his intertwined fingers warm yours. You don’t comment on how his grip is stronger than usual and how he doesn’t let it go when your hands begin to sweat.

But as you leave the main building of NRC, the curiosity gets the better of you.

“Where are we heading to?”

Epel looks over his shoulder to blink at you. “I…,” he stammers, as confused enough to leave you wondering what is your final destination. Or what was your final destination, Epel seems to have forgotten whatever plan he had in mind. “I guess it can be here.”

He ushers you into one of the side alleys, a bit distanced from the main street and sits you down on a bench. You eye him curiously as he slowly lifts his hands to your face—and that is the first time he let go of your hand—and cupped your cheeks.

“Let me be clear. I- really like you,” he said loudly, gazing into your eyes. “And I know I… overreacted earlier. I’m sorry. I don’t want you to avoid me.”

You breathe out slowly. The heat from the “I really like you” moment prickles and makes your face hotter. It doesn’t help that Epel doesn’t shift his gaze from you nor that he has his hands firmly on your cheekbones as he awaits your answer.

“I’m… sorry. I shouldn’t have been getting between you and your friends.”

Epel eyes you, bewildered. “Why are you focusing on that part?”

“Huh?”

“Ah. Maybe… I will phrase it differently,” He hesitates and his tone wavers, but he says the words without a stutter, as if he’s been practising them in front of the mirror, effectively. “I love you.”

“And I- I want to be friends even if you don’t feel the same.” He rushes with an explanation when you don’t answer as your mind goes blank. “Because. I don’t want you to… avoid me anymore. A-actually, you don’t have to rush with your answer. Just, decide, someday, in the near future, haha? I will wait.”

He glances at you and you know he won’t be able to bear long without hearing your answer. As he rushes past you, you think you heard a hushed whisper.

“Dear Sevens, I said it…!”

[accidentallydoorstep]

@brainlessrot <3

[treysimp]

"I’m not sure how better to say this... do you want to make out on my couch?"

Part 4

GN!Reader x Pomefiore (Vil, Rook, Epel)

Smooching, implied mutual pining and suggestive themes, but nothing explicit. Reader is not physically described.

Other chapters:

Savannahclaw | Scarabia | Octinavielle | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Heartslabyul | Diasomnia

Want more TWST? Here's my Masterlist!

I don't know how better to say this, but do you want to make out on my couch?

Vil bit his lip, shrugged, and then put his hand at the small of your back, dropping you into an elegant dip (or it would have been if you hadn’t yelped in fright). You clasped onto his neck for dear life, and to his credit, he did indeed grasp you firmer in response. 

Like a movie, Vill traced from the top of your ear to your chin, gently tipping your face towards his before pulling you into a ravishing and intense kiss. Your eyes slid shut as you felt yourself being slowly raised back to standing while Vil generously lavished you with slow and romantic kisses. 

You wondered if this could go on for hours, you would do anything for it to never stop. Vil’s kisses were unlike anything you had ever experienced before. You couldn’t help but think that all your dreams of this moment had underestimated him. Nothing could truly compare to his petal lips, his silk hair, and his perfect skin passing over yours softly as you exchanged sweet kisses. 

Finally parting, you both stood in silence. Vil held your face between his palms, eyes boring into yours. You suddenly felt shy, but you couldn't look away either. It was like you were hypnotized. It made you wonder how he could ever think there was anyone fairer than he. You certainly had never seen one who was… not even…

“I refuse, by the way,” Vil says suddenly, cutting through your dreamy reverie. His voice perfectly even and serious. You sputtered in confusion at the statement.

“...you refuse?” You repeated. He literally just kissed you? What does he possibly mean by that? 

“We are not going inside the hovel you call home.” He says snappily. 

You frowned, he’d been in Ramshackle before for a week during the training camp, it’s not like he hasn’t been inside before. 

“Well sorry for my ‘hovel’ but that's all I’ve got.” you snapped back, rolling your eyes. What in the world were you supposed to do about it?

Vil’s perfect face fell into a frown, finally releasing your cheeks from his grasp, brows knitting ever so slightly. 

“It seems there must be a misunderstanding. Must I spell it out for you?” He says with a huff, crossing his arms and tossing his head to the side, blowing away the hair that had fallen out of his braid from his eyes.

“Yes your majesty, I would appreciate it,” you said, putting your hand on your hip and giving him a confused glare. 

Really? What was his problem?

“As an actor, I am only worth as much as the stage I perform on,” he says, extending his hand in a smooth motion to follow each of his perfectly articulated syllables. 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Usually when I say that, the stage is a metaphor.” he continues, shaking one hand with a finger pointed to the sky while the other rests on his chin in a gesture to evoke thoughtfulness.

“Yep…” you had decided that he would probably be more upset if you didn’t respond to this weird interlude.

“But… in this case I… I…” he begins, eyes opening wide with intensity (perhaps a little too much, if you were honest).

“I will not have my first time intimately touching the love of my life anywhere that is less than gorgeous, Prefect! And that’s final!” Vil practically yelled, his perfect foundation no longer fully hiding the wild flush that had begun covering his complexion. His breathing was heavy, and his expression of frustration quickly turned to one of embarrassment.

Looking almost like he could burst into tears, Vil grabs your elbow and begins dragging you away from your hovel-adjacent mansion without explanation. 

“We will go to MY room, we will make out on MY couch, and I will ravish you so perfectly that you will never so much as look at another man with fondness without tonight having been so perfect that it immediately ruins your attraction to him as it forcibly comes to the front of your mind!” he finishes, words tumbling out of his painted mouth at light speed. Vil was pulling you even more enthusiastically than before as his shoes clicked on the cobblestones that lead you to the mirrors. 

You couldn’t help it, you burst into laughter. Vil stopped in his tracks, looking positively horrified. 

“Look, I… I’m not… You're...” he mumbles your name softly, and the pure tenderness of his voice has you immediately pulling him into a hug even though your shoulders are still quivering with laughter. 

“Vil… why didn’t you just say that in the first place? You can ravish me all you want.”

Ears turning red, Vil gives you a sharp nod as he tightens the embrace between the two of you. 

“I’m not going to let you forget you said that. I’m not going to forgive you for ruining my beauty sleep so easily.”

"I wouldn't have it any other way, beautiful," you say, shoulders sagging in relief.

“Oh? Mon trésor, do repeat that request?” 

You suddenly realized that you shouldn’t have turned your back to Rook when you felt one hand snake across your waist and the other brush behind your arm to grasp your chin. Startled but also more than a little excited at the close contact, you very much could hear each beat of your heart in your eardrums.

Hot breath fanned over your ear as you felt the skim of perfect teeth against your sensitive skin. Shivering excitedly, you stood perfectly still. Feeling as if you moved even slightly, took the smallest breath, or uttered the shortest syllable, the spell would be broken and he would disappear just as fast as he came into your life.

“You know, if you wanted to be caught by me, all you had to do was ask,” he murmured, each word tickling the baby hairs behind your ear.

The heat that crept up your neck was made of more than just embarrassment as you suddenly wondered if you did fall into a trap by asking this beautiful man inside of your house. The hand on your chin slowly turned your head to the side, and your eyes met with a sparkling crescent emerald green.

Feeling very much like every breath he took against your skin took away yours in turn, you closed your eyes for a moment. Feeling the thrill of him being so close and success being so close you could almost taste it. Building up your courage, you square your shoulders as you try to speak again.

“Is that a yes, Rook?” You ask. Your voice shook slightly more than you would have liked, but it certainly wasn’t from fear. 

“Ah, ma belle amie, I think you already know the answer.” He said, a soft kiss descending to the cheek you had tilted nearest to him.

The beats of your heart go into overdrive at the simple and relatively innocent act of affection, and this forceful kickstart to your brain finally enticed you to turn your head to him. 

Your eyes meet with one of the smuggest expressions you have ever seen in your life. You wanted to wipe it off of him.

“I suppose you’re right.” You say, taking the opportunity to surprise him for once by planting a passionate kiss onto the lips of the stupid, dumb, frustrating, incredibly hot, hunter.

With a soft hum, he reciprocates your kiss. A single strand falls loose from his ponytail and brushes past your cheek in a ticklish wave. The kisses are slow, soft, and so very tender. The romance that everyone wishes for when they dream of kissing the object of their affection for the first time.

Separating with a sigh, Rook’s cheeks are alight with a scarlet splash. “Oh! Mon amour! You do truly know how to stir the fondest fantasies of my heart.” He said, squeezing you ever closer. The embrace made you wonder if mice were this happy with the cheese they found before the trap clapped shut.

“… Rook.”

“Yes, my darling?”

“Can we go inside?”

Without a hint of embarrassment at being asked to let go, Rook loosens his arms to allow you to open the door you had been holding onto for the past couple of minutes. 

Without skipping a beat, Rook places his hand at the small of your waist and ushers you inside, closing the door softly behind you both. You are escorted forward through the living room until you sit on the couch. However, rather than sit beside you, Rook kneels on the ground.

“Ma lune, mes étoiles-!” He begins, holding your hands in between one of his, the other elegantly removing his baseball cap with a flourish and holding it to his chest. 

“Do you dare grant my fondest wish?”

You breathed in deeply, preparing yourself for what he may have cooked up in his french-speaking, romance-novel-infested brain.

“And what would that be, Rook?”

“For me to make a mess of you, my dear.”

You inhaled sharply, looking for any hint of a lie or facade in his glimmering emerald eyes. 

Maybe you were just naive, but no matter how hard you searched each curve of his elegant face, you could never find anything that ever so much as hinted at deceit. 

Well, you were down too bad to stop at this point anyway.

“I’m not convinced you’ve ever made a mess in your life, Rook.”

“Ohoho, well then ma cherie! Allow me the pleasure of surprising you.” throwing his hat into the air with an unnecessarily complex hand motion, Rook rises from his knees and uses his arms to box you in. 

As he descends onto you with the promise of more, you can’t feel even a trace of regret at letting this hunter into your den. For better, or for worse.

(Link to the smutty conclusion of Rook's story: for both AFAB! and AMAB! readers)

“…this isn’t fair.”

You spun around sharply to make eye contact with Epel, his arms crossed and his face screwed into a frown.

“Am I really supposed to believe that? That all my dreams would just come true suddenly? Who do you take me for? Did someone put you up to this?” Epel’s lavender hair falls into his eyes and his foot taps incessantly to the same rhythm that his eyes are rapidly darting between your face and the wall. Your heart falls while you look at him.

“Epel..” you say with a sign, pinching your nose in agitation. Was he this stupid? 

“What reason could I possibly be lying to you? What do I possibly have to gain?” you cross your arms haughtily, mirroring his body language. 

Epel is still frowning, but his eyebrows seemed to soften just a bit. 

“I don’t know! I just don’t… This isn’t…” he falters, seemingly deflating in front of you. 

You decided that the best bet is just to start your question again, “...Epel, you are gorgeous and I am trying to come on to you. Will you make out with me?”

For once the little country boy was speechless. His huge soft eyes were wide and his hand drifted to his mouth to cover his gaping mouth. 

It seems like at least some of Vil’s lessons in being demure had paid off, you supposed.

Finally pulling himself together enough to speak, he starts trying to argue again. “Y-you can’t tease me like..” he began in a sputter, but you immediately cut him off.

“Epel, if you want to say no do it! But just… look, I’m really…” your eyes were burning. How frustrating! What were you supposed to do? He wouldn’t believe you!

“No! I am-! I do!” Epel's face lit a bright ruby as he grabbed you by the shoulders, shining blue eyes boring into yours. After a pause that felt like a lifetime, he finally rushed himself towards you, teeth clattering against your own in his haste.

Your incisor felt like hell, but you quickly were convinced to forget. Epel’s kisses were hungry, aggressive, and wild. You were overwhelmed by the pure emotion of it all, of the desperate push and pull of his body as he did everything in his power to try and convey exactly how he was feeling. After a pregnant pause, Epel separates from you in a huff, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, clearly trying to hide his face from view.

“Ya can’t… ya can’t just…” Epel was panting, his hands trembled, and his face was painted with a beautiful flush. 

“…this is so unfair.” He finished, hands grabbing at your clothing to grope at every piece of skin he could get his hands on. 

You were immediately pushed up against the door from the surprising strength of his frail-appearing body, but you couldn’t stop your mouth curving into a grin as you watched Epel try and fail to unbutton your collar. 

Looking up at you with a glare, Epel finally just pulled your shirt hard enough that the button just popped off.

“Hey! I don’t have that many shirts, you know!” you said, trying to sound offended. He was cute when he was being bratty, but you didn’t want to encourage him. 

“Quit complainin’!” he huffed, successfully opening your shirt further without needing to pop more stitches. Looking up to your face with a mischievous grin, Epel chooses to kiss your neck sweetly. Making you almost forget that you were mad… almost.

“Epel…” you whine quietly, you were sure he was leaving marks. He was biting your skin hard, firmly laving his tongue against every blooming purple mark once completed. Looking very satisfied with himself, he started on the other side. 

“Don’t worry…” a sigh, a bite, a snicker “I have good concealer, y’know?” he says with another hearty laugh, seeming to get a kick out of the idea that the no-doubt expensive makeup was being wasted on covering up the marks that he was making on you. The marks that proved it was him that you wanted. He almost felt high on the validation. 

“...Epel… do you…” God, it was hard to talk when he kept playfully nipping at your windpipe. 

“Do you want to actually get on the couch?” you finished, misty eyes staring at him as the moonlight made him look almost like an angel. If it weren’t for the devious look on his face, that is.

“No…” he said softly, pressing you further into the wood planks of your front door, ever more firm, ever more persistent.

“I want you right here.” 

-----

Oh man I really enjoyed this chapter. I feel like the more I write for twst the ever harder it becomes to tell which boys are even my favorite anymore, I just love them all so much.

As always, let me know who you want to see next and tell me if there are any ideas you want to share. Survey said yes on the spicy continuations so I may do a new fic post for those that includes these introductions and picks up where they left off. (I'm coming for you Floyd)

Love you, reader! Thank you everyone that told me happy birthday yesterday!

[akechisu1]

[blackopals-world]

Epel: (trying to pick up Yuu's dog-sized rabbit) Stop kicking before I hogtie you.

Suzette: *bites*

Special Forces!Yuu: Leave her alone. She's in a bad mood. Rook took her to a photoshoot with Vil.

Suzette: *gives everyone evil eyes*

[ashipiko]

FUN FACT! ASHI AND EPEL ARE BESTIES 🍎🌺

ALT VERS UNDER CUT!!!

[demon-lover-669]

Rook: y/n loves me

Epel: y/n what’s your thoughts on Rook?

Y/n: if someone handed me a saw and told me if I didn’t cut my finger off I’d have to live with Rook.

Rook: you’d choose to live with me! Obviously

Y/n: I’d cut off my whole arm just to be safe.

Epel: 😂😂😂😂

[ferris-the-wheel]

m!MC x TWST characters

TW: None

You were wondering what to get your boyfriend as a gift. Obviously, you also wanted it to be a well-thought-out gift as well. You aren't good at this sort of thing. Hm......

"Maybe that will work?" You just had to make sure you caught him in his room so no one butt in.

.

.

.

"Hey, Idia?" You opened his door, hiding his gift behind it. He turned and had a look of confusion on his face. "What are you hiding?" He asked with a suspicious tone.

"Um... I wanted to get you a gift but I couldn't think of anything to get you... except for this." You said, holding out a fluffy grey cat. It had a blue and black ribbon tied around its neck. Idia's eyes lit up, and he shot up from his gaming chair. He immediately grabbed the cat from you and started petting it.

"Aw, such a pwetty kitty, so cute!" He crooned, rubbing behind its ears and under its chin. It started purring. Idia flopped down onto his bed, cradling the cat while petting its belly.

"He's so cute! Oh, what should I name you? Hmmm...." Idia was fanboying over the cat, who was eating up the attention. "What about Gizmo?" You suggested. Idia nodded. "Gizmo it is! Oh, such a cute widdle kitty, you! Oh, who's a pwetty kitty?" Yep, he was totally obsessed.

"Oh, that reminds me, Gizmo's gonna need a litter box and stuff." You said. "I got cat food for him, and bowls. I figured that—"

"Don't worry, I'm gonna make a state-of-the-art litter box for Giz. And some toys. Ooo, maybe a cat run? Oh, yeah, I can install it on the wall!" Idia was off in his own little world now. Knowing how he was with cats, you knew that he would probably be totally tunnel-visioned for the rest of the day.

You left the room, feeling very happy with yourself. You'd never seen him so happy since you two started dating. As you walked down the hallway, you laughed to yourself, picturing Idia gaming with Gizmo on his lap.

"Y/N...? What are you doing?" Trey stood behind you. Shit. You spun around to face him, painfully aware that his gift was being noisy in the room behind you. "Uh....."

"Y/N? What's in my room?" He asked. Your mind blanked, unable to think of an excuse. "Um... an animal." You said.

"An animal?! What animal?!" Trey asked, trying to get into his room. You blocked him. "Can you wait for five minutes?" You pleaded. Trey gave you a dubious look, but stopped trying to get past you. "Five minutes." He sighed.

. . .

"You got me... guinea pigs?" Trey said, looking at the small rodents in a cage by his bed. There were four of them in the cage. You picked up the red one. "This one's the fiestiest." You said. Trey sighed, then he smiled. "I guess I should come up with names for them." He said.

"Okay, how about this one?" You handed him the guinea pig. He held it carefully. "I'm thinking... Paprika." He said with a sheepish grin. You nodded. "And this one?" You handed him a white and beige one. "Nutmeg." He responded.

"Her?" You held up a grey one. He thought for a moment. He shrugged with a laugh. "Pepper, I guess?" You laughed as well. You held up the last one, brown and white. "Maybe... Basil?"

"Basil, then." He said. He now had all four guinea pigs swarming on his lap, squeaking and trying to climb up his arms. "I still need to buy food for them, and a water bowl or something." He said, putting Nutmeg on one shoulder and Pepper on the other. Basil settled down on his left knee, while Paprika claimed his right.

"Don't worry about all that. The food and stuff is under your bed. I came prepared." You said. Trey looked at you, surprised then said, "And this is why I love you."

"Who's that?" Epel asked as you walked into his room. "Is it yours?" He asked. You set down the cream colored puppy on the ground. "No, it's yours." You said. He looked confused.

"I don't own a dog." He said. The small puppy bounced over to him, a purple collar with a neat red bow around its neck. "Now you do." You said, suppressing a laugh at Epel's shocked face.

"But Vil would never let me have a dog in the dorm!" He said, now looking sad. "Don't worry about that, Vil approved. He gave me the bow." You replied. "I managed to convince him that you'd listen to him more if he let you keep the dog. So you better not make me look bad." You warned him.

Epel looked at you in shock, then hurried over to you and hugged you tightly. You hugged him back for a second. "Um, Epel, I like living, but I won't be much longer if you keep hugging me so tightly." You wheezed. He was surprisingly strong.

"Eh!— Sorry!" He exclaimed, releasing you and scooping up the puppy that was prancing around his feet. "Ah reckon Ah should give ya a name." He said to the dog, not noticing his accent. "How 'bout Dixie? Maybe a bit basic, but Ah like the name. So how 'bout it, Dixie?"

Dixie yapped and started licking Epel's face and he fell backward in surprise. Dixie's tail wagged a mile a minute as Epel laughed. You saw Rook poke his head in the door, probably to see what the noise was. When he saw Epel, he smiled and disappeared.

Finally, Epel said up, Dixie romping around in circles around him. You handed Epel a leash and nodded to Dixie. "Think she wants to go on a walk?"

You held the open box firmly as you knocked on Riddle's door. You'd made sure that the bottom of the box had something soft on it.

"Come in!" You heard his voice call, so you opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind you. Riddle was at his desk and he looked up as you walked in. His eyes immediately went to the box. "What's that?" He asked.

"A surprise." You said, placing the box down on his desk. He looked suspiciously between you and the box, then peered over the top. He let out a yelp of surprise. "What did you do?!" He asked, holding up the hedgehog skillfully. "What did you do to the color?"

You probably should've expected this to happen. "Hold on, Riddle, don't freak out, let me explain!" You said loudly, holding up your hands. He quieted, setting the hedgehog back into the box. He crossed his arms. "It's not one of the Heartslaybul hedgehogs, I swear. I got it from a pet store. I figured that you could use some company when you're studying, so I wanted to get you a pet. Since I've heard you're good with the other hedgehogs, I figured that'd be a good choice." You hurriedly explained.

Riddle's expression changed from anger to shock in seconds. He hesitantly picked up the hedgehog again, this time looking at it with what you assumed hoped was adoration. The hedgehog snuffled around in his palm, looking for food. Riddle held it at face level. "I think I'm going to call you Button." He said to the animal.

"Button?" You inquired. He pointed to its nose. "Its nose looks like a button." Riddle stated. You couldn't help it and laughed. Riddle looked offended. "What? Do you not like the name I picked?" You backtracked quickly. "No, no, the name is fine. It's just— like you." You said. It seemed just like a name Riddle would pick out.

"Um... thank you. And I apologize for jumping to conclusions earlier." He added, an awkward look passing over his face. You smiled, waving it off. "Don't worry about it."

"You are not giving Kalim a pet! He can barely look after himself as it is! It'll end up being me dealing with it while he plays with it. As if I need another thing added to my workload!" Jamil said sternly. You'd come across him while heading to Kalim's room.

"Oh, come on. If you just say that he'll have to get rid of it if he doesn't take care of it, he'll be just fine." You reasoned. Jamil scowled. "We both know that's not true." You frowned in return.

"Okay, well, if I tell him, he's bound to listen. After all, he'd never intentionally upset anyone, least of all me." You were grasping at straws here, trying to find something to convince Jamil not to turn your gift away. Jamil gave an exasperated sigh, turning his head.

"Actually, you're probably right about that... Fine, I'll let you give him that, but while you're telling him to take care of it, make sure to let him know that he's only allowed to throw parties once a month." Jamil said. "If he fights it, tell him it'll make his new furry friend anxious." He added with a crafty smile.

"You're certainly clever. Trying to lessen your workload, I see." You laughed, continuing on your way to Kailm's room. You knocked on the door. "Yeah, what is it?" A cheery voice called from the other side. You entered his room and set down the very heavy creature, unable to hold its weight anymore. Kalim looked over, then gave a gasp of surprise. He shot off his bed.

"Oh, such a giant bunny!" He squealed, sitting down. It sniffed his hair, probably deciding whether or not to start eating it. You dropped down on the floor beside Kalim. "Is this yours? Why didn't you tell me you had such a giant bunny?" Kalim asked. "It's actually a gift from me to you. But Jamil made sure to tell me that if you don't properly take care of it, you'll have to get rid of it." You said.

"Of course I'd take care of him— her—?" He now was confused. "It's a boy." You said. Kalim nodded. "Of course I'll take care of him!" You grinned, then remembered the condition Jamil had set. "Oh yeah, Jamil also said that you're going to have to cut down on parties to once a month." You said. Kalim looked up in surprise. "Cut down on parties? Why?"

"Because it'd stress out the bunny if there are constantly parties being thrown." You said, using Jamil's excuse. You marveled at Jamil's ability to spin such convincing lies. Kalim seemed sad, but looked down at his new pet (who was eating the carpet now) and smiled. "That's okay! I don't want to make Jouri uncomfortable." He conceded.

"You've already decided on a name?" You asked. Kalim smiled, coaxing the large bunny onto his lap and petting it. "Yep! After a rose that's found in the desert, the damask rose." You nodded. Kalim seemed to think about something for a moment. Then he leaned over and gave you a kiss on the cheek, wrapping you as best he could into a hug without disturbing Jouri.

"Thank you so much!" He said, tears forming in his eyes. "This is the best day ever! Except maybe when we started dating." He said, pausing. "I think both days are equal." You chuckled, moving closer so that he could sit comfortably with Jouri in his lap but still hug you. "Yeah, me too."

Boo!! 🧡 Here is a random idea that came to mind. Sorry that Kalim's part is a bit longer than the others. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! I tried to make the animals/names match the characters and what they would probably name a pet if they had one (hence Trey's). I actually started this a few days ago, but my motivation took a vacation, so... Well, bye now~~!!

Also, I did not proofread this, I'm tired, so please ignore any mistakes.