Now that we have all the Relax in Room cards, I can finally release this into the wild!!
General
First year students are four to a room.
Second year students are two to a room.
Third year students get their own rooms.
Fourth year students go off-campus for internships, and therefore do not require rooms on NRC campus.
Dorm leaders (but NOT vice dorm leaders) get their own rooms, regardless of what year they are.
All students use a communal washroom; not even the dorm leaders have a private one.
Savanaclaw and Scarabia are noted to have empty rooms; it is not known if this is true for other dorms. Yuu and Grim stay in an “empty private room” in book 4.
Heartslabyul has no open rooms. This is why Yuu cannot sleep over in book 3.
Riddle, Trey, Cater, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Rook, Idia, Malleus, and Lilia have NO roommates because they are a dorm leader, third year, or both a dorm leader and a third year.
It is stated in the light novel that Riddle determines the room assignments for students in Heartslabyul. It has yet to be confirmed if this is the process for other dorms as well.
Ace and Deuce
Ace says he can hear Deuce grinding this teeth in his sleep.
Ace thinks his roommates have it easy and don’t have upperclassmen who cause problems or nag them.
They swap dorm duties and help each other remember the Queen of Hearts’ rules.
Their stuff always mixes with their roommates’ stuff.
No one bothers waking Ace up if he oversleeps.
They play darts or card games (the latter of which have been particularly popular). Deuce says this disrupts his studying.
They also play video games together.
Ace says a loud-mouthed and stubborn idiot always gets in the way of these games. He doesn’t name anyone, but I assume he means Deuce.
They share comics, taking turns reading every week.
They sometimes share food, as one roommate gives Deuce cookies as a birthday gift the night before.
Deuce is frequently bothered by his roommates when he tries to study. This makes his roommates laugh and intentionally act in ways that distract him.
Ruggie
Ruggie says he gets along pretty well with his roommate. It’s a very “you scratch my back, I scratch yours” relationship.
His roommate is good at ancient incantations.
Ruggie offers his animal linguistics expertise in exchange for his roommate’s help with ancient incantations homework.
Ruggie says he can count on his roomie.
Jack
Jack cannot do stretches in his room because his roommates’ stuff is scattered everywhere.
His roommates ask to copy his homework, which Jack refuses. He tells them to take personal responsibility for their work.
Jack says his roommates stay up late and/or are too loud. For him, who always sleeps at 10 pm every day, this is not optimal.
He doubts his roommates will listen to him.
He complains that his roommates leave their dirty clothes in his personal space. Jack considers throwing the clothes away.
When Jack was moving in, he and his roommates got into a fight about who would get which bed. In the end, Jack defeated them in arm-wrestling and was able to get first pick of the place he slept. (He wanted a spot that got a little sunlight so his cactus could be nourished.)
Jade and Floyd
Floyd tends to pile up snacks in their room since he loses interest after he already buys them.
Jade plans on getting more logbooks, encyclopedias, and terrariums for the room.
Jade tends to ramble about the mountains. Whenever Floyd is wide awake, this helps to immediately put him to sleep.
Jade keeps his side neat and tidy, whereas Floyd’s side is messy and unkempt.
Floyd occasionally borrows Jade’s clothes.
Jamil
He says his roommate is “not a pain”.
Jamil describes his roommate as “the kind of guy that doesn’t care at all” if Jamil decides to do stretches in the middle of the night.
His roommate greets him when he returns.
Jamil implies his roommates doesn’t regularly study. However, he does appear to study when he knows he will be busy tomorrow and this won’t have time to do it then.
Epel
Epel sprays fragrances he is gifted to cover the smell of him snacking.
His roommates often ask him what products he uses and what he eats. They then proceed to try and copy him, hoping to attain Epel’s looks.
His roommates compliment his appearance and his cardigan.
They do not know about Epel’s true nature.
They go to bed early in order to get their beauty sleep.
Epel waits for his roomies to fall asleep so he can watch his favorite shows on his phone while snacking.
One of Epel's roommates put a sheet mask on his face to help prepare Epel for his birthday photoshoot.
They rebuke Epel's "cool" fashion choices, calling his choice of attire crude and insisting it ruins Epel's natural charm.
Ortho
Idia scared Ortho with stories about how awful it was to room with three other students and to have zero privacy.
Ortho chats with his roommates all the time. He finds each or their specialized fields of interest fascinating.
His roommates are excited whenever Ortho debuts a new gear. Ortho answers all their questions.
His roommates usually stay up late, at least past midnight.
He plays video games with his roomies.
Ortho used to “sleep” while standing motionlessly and giving off a faint light. His roomies found this frightening and asked for the school to do something about it.
He invites his roommates to play sugoroku with him. Idia's worried the roommates will blame Ortho if they lose, but it's not clear if the roommates really would bully Ortho like that.
Silver
His roommate finds Trein’s class boring and falls asleep during it.
The roomie helps wake Silver up when he starts to fall asleep and in the mornings too.
The roommate has to deal with Silver’s alarms every morning. He begs Silver to not buy more.
Once Silver startled his roommates on a rainy day. He had decided to practice with his sword in their room. Silver now warns the roommate before he practices with his sword.
Sebek
Please note: Sebek DOES have three roommates, but we only ever see two in his vignettes.
Sebek seems cold towards his roommates, as he does not find it necessary to get to know them.
He says his roomies are too noisy (when there is a question on an assignment they cannot figure out). Sebek helps them, but is arrogant about it.
His roommates tell Sebek he is full of himself, even if they are grateful for his assistance.
He joins in conversations where they extol Malleus’s greatness.
Miscellaneous
Trey and Cater confirm that they were roommates as first and second year students.
When Leona was a first year, one of his roommate’s alarms went off and it was so loud that he smashed it to smithereens.
Lilia and Malleus’s rooms are currently located next to each other.
man I have been feeling mentally down lately,, and have no energy whatsoever. It really is hard to be so far away from your family. 😭 I was certainly aware of the circumstances of being an international student but damn,, I’m slightly struggling in here no matter how much I try to distract myself from negative thoughts. I’m gonna study Turkish language more seriously this summer since I’m gonna have full Turkish exam, that I wasn’t aware of, until my roommate told me somewhere in March. I have no desire to HYPER focus on it since I really wanna relax with my family after all. I already planned the comfortable schedule for my studies, thinking of starting in the middle of June. (Or not, I’m gonna discuss my schedule with mom once I come back home.) Eughhgh I wanna kill myself/hj
context: When they see two suspicious shadows — one resembling you, standing suspiciously close to someone else — they each react in their own way. What begins as a moment of doubt and jealousy quickly unravels when they discover it was only an illusion spell cast by someone seeking petty revenge on you.
ft. Housewardens
tags: GN!reader, reader is Yuu, threats, fluff, established relationship
a/n: you guys genuinely don’t wanna know how many times i have edited this (and almost gave up on it)
RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS:
Riddle had just left the library after spending several hours reviewing documents for an upcoming dorm inspection. His arms were heavy with books, his posture straight as always, but his steps were lighter than usual — he was looking forward to meeting you at the usual spot near the rose maze. You had promised to help him with taking care of hedgehogs.
As he turned the corner toward the quieter path behind the hedge maze, he froze.
Two shadows stretched long across the moonlit grass. One was unmistakably yours — the familiar silhouette of your posture, the way you held your head. The other belonged to a taller, broader figure. They were standing far too close. The stranger’s shadow leaned in, and yours tilted up toward them in a way that looked… intimate. Almost flirtatious.
Riddle’s heart gave a painful lurch.
“Y/N?” he called out, voice sharper than he intended.
The moment his voice rang out, both shadows jolted. Without a word, they bolted — disappearing behind the thick hedges in a frantic scramble of footsteps.
Riddle stood frozen for half a second, books slipping slightly in his grip. His mind raced. That was you. He was certain of it. The height, the shape, even the way you moved when startled — it was you.
A hot, ugly feeling twisted in his chest. Jealousy? Betrayal? He didn’t know what to call it, only that it burned. His hands trembled as he clutched his books tighter. You had promised to meet him. You had been acting normal all day. Had he missed something? Had he been too strict again? Too demanding?
He took a shaky step forward, then another. Part of him wanted to chase after the shadows immediately — to demand answers, to drag the truth out. But his feet felt heavy. The thought of catching you in the arms of someone else made his stomach turn.
Riddle stood there for a long minute, breathing uneven, cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and hurt. Then he turned on his heel and marched straight toward Ramshackle.
He found you sitting on the porch steps, Grim curled up beside you, looking perfectly normal as you scrolled through your phone.
“Y/N,” he said, voice tight.
You looked up, surprised. “Riddle? You’re early — I was just about to head over to meet you.”
He stopped a few feet away, fists clenched at his sides. “I came over earlier to speak to you of an important matter.”
His serious tone made you straighten your posture and slightly furrow your brows. “Oh, did something bad happened?”
He was silent for a few seconds. “I saw you behind the rose maze with someone else. You two were very close to each other. When I called your name, both of you ran.”
Your eyes widened. “What? Riddle, I’ve been here for the last twenty minutes. I haven’t left Ramshackle since dinner.”
He stared at you, searching your face for any sign of a lie. But you looked at him only with genuine confusion.
“…You weren’t there?” he asked, quieter now.
You shook your head. “No. I swear. I’ve been trying to get Grim to stop eating my rice.”
Grim grumbled something about “not my fault it tastes good,” but you ignored him.
Riddle’s shoulders slowly dropped. He pressed a hand to his forehead, letting out a shaky breath.
“Then… it wasn’t you.”
He explained what he had seen — the two shadows, how close they looked, how they fled the moment he called out. As he spoke, your expression shifted from confusion to understanding.
“Oh… that sounds like one of those illusion spells,” you said gently. “Someone must have cast it to mess with me. I’ve had a few people pull stupid pranks lately because of that incident with the hedgehogs last week.”
Riddle’s face went from pale to bright red in seconds. He had jumped to the worst conclusion. He had doubted you — you, the person who had stayed by his side even after his Overblot, who put up with his strictness and still chose him every day.
“I… I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice small. “I saw your silhouette and I… I thought—”
You stood up and stepped closer, gently taking his trembling hands in yours.
“Hey. It’s okay. You were worried. That’s not a bad thing.” You squeezed his fingers. “But next time, maybe ask me first before assuming I’m flirting with random guy in the maze?”
Riddle let out a weak, embarrassed laugh, nodding. “I will. I promise.”
He mentally noted to himself to ask Trey and Cater to find the so called prankster so he could deal with it.
The Heartslabyul lounge was deathly silent.
Riddle stood in the center of the room, arms crossed so tightly his knuckles were white. Trey and Cater had done their job efficiently — the culprit, a third-year student, now stood before him with his hands behind his back, looking far less smug than he had when the prank was first discovered.
“You used an illusion spell to create false shadows of the Prefect,” Riddle said, voice dangerously low and precise. “You made it appear as though they were flirting with another person. You did this specifically to cause me distress and damage my relationship. Is that correct?”
The student shifted his weight, trying for a cocky grin. “It was just a harmless joke. Lighten up—”
“Harmless?” Riddle’s voice cracked like a whip. His face flushed scarlet as the anger he tried so hard to control surged forward. “You deliberately targeted my relationship with the Prefect! You made me doubt the person I trust the most in this school! You should be ashamed of yourself!”
Trey stepped forward slightly, voice calm. “Riddle, maybe we can—”
“Off With Your Head!”
The bright red heart-shaped collar snapped around the boy’s neck neck in an instant, sealing his magic. The student yelped, hands flying up to the collar as his magic vanished.
Riddle’s breathing was sharp and fast, eyes blazing. “You will apologize to the Prefect and write a formal letter of apology to both of us. And you will spend the next two weeks tending every single rosebush in the garden — by hand, without magic — under my direct supervision. If I see even one crooked stem, the collar stays on for a month.”
Cater winced from the sidelines, whispering to Trey, “He’s really mad this time…”
The student opened his mouth to protest, but Riddle’s glare shut him up instantly.
“Do you have any idea how much you hurt them?” Riddle continued, voice rising despite himself. “How much you hurt me? I almost believed — I actually thought —” He cut himself off, fists shaking at his sides. “We do not tolerate cruelty disguised as jokes. Is that understood?”
The student nodded quickly, all bravado gone. “Y-Yes, housewarden…”
Riddle took a slow, deliberate breath, trying to rein in the hot temper that still sometimes slipped past his control. He had been working on patience. He really had. But when it came to you… some lines could not be crossed.
“Good,” he said, voice quieter now but still firm. “Trey, Cater — make sure he starts his punishment immediately. And you… if you ever try something like this again, I won’t be so lenient.”
As the three of them left the lounge, Riddle remained standing in the center of the room, shoulders still tense. He closed his eyes and exhaled shakily.
LEONA KINGSCHOLAR:
The afternoon sun filtered through the leaves of the botanical garden as Leona made his way back toward the Savanaclaw dorm. He’d spent the last few hours napping in his favorite shady spot, tail lazily flicking at the occasional fly. His mood was decent — not great, but decent. He was even looking forward to seeing you later. You had mentioned something about meeting up after your last class.
As he turned onto the quieter path behind the greenhouse, something caught his eye.
Two shadows stretched long across the grass.
One was unmistakably yours — the familiar shape of your posture, the way you held yourself. The other belonged to some random taller figure. They were standing way too close. The stranger’s shadow leaned in, and yours tilted toward them in a way that looked far too intimate. Like flirting.
Leona stopped dead in his tracks. His ears flattened.
“…Oi. Herbivore.”
The moment his voice cut through the air, both shadows jolted. Without hesitation, they bolted — disappearing behind the thick bushes in a frantic scramble of footsteps.
Leona stood there, staring at the empty spot where the shadows had been. His tail lashed once, hard. A low growl rumbled in his chest.
That was you. He was sure of it. The height, the movement, even the way you shifted when startled — it was you. The ugly twist in his gut was immediate. Jealousy, sharp and hot, mixed with something colder. Betrayal? He hated how quickly it hit him. He wasn’t the type to get possessive, but the thought of you sneaking around behind his back made his blood boil.
“Tch.” He clicked his tongue, fists clenching at his sides. “Running away the second I call you? Real mature.”
He took a step forward, instincts screaming at him to chase the shadows down and drag the truth out. But his feet stopped after two steps. What was the point? If you were really doing something behind his back, confronting you right now while he was pissed off would only make things worse.
Leona turned on his heel and headed straight for Ramshackle instead, with jaw tight, tail still lashing behind him.
He found you sitting on the porch steps, Grim sprawled across your lap like a lazy rug. You looked up when you heard him approaching, smiling like nothing was wrong.
“Leona? You’re early. I thought you were napping until dinner.”
Leona stopped a few feet away, arms crossed, ears still flat. “I saw you behind the greenhouse with some guy. You two were real cozy. When I called your name, both of you ran like guilty criminals.”
You blinked, genuinely confused. “What? Leona, I really have no idea what you’re talking about but I’ve been here for the last hour. Grim’s been using me as a pillow the whole time.”
Grim yawned. “Yeah, and you’re comfy. Stop moving.”
Leona stared at you, searching your face. He found only honest bewilderment on your face.
“…It wasn’t you?” he asked, voice lower now.
You shook your head. “No. I swear. I haven’t left Ramshackle since lunch.”
Leona’s tail stopped lashing. The anger drained out of him in a rush, leaving behind a heavy, uncomfortable guilt. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.
“Then it seems like some bastard used an illusion spell,” he muttered. “Made shadows that looked like you and some random guy. Close enough to look like you were flirting.”
Your eyes widened. “Oh… that sounds like revenge from that incident last week. I didn’t know anyone was still mad about that.”
Leona’s eyes narrowed and didn’t waste any time.
He simply disappeared for about twenty minutes after leaving Ramshackle, then returned with a very pale, very quiet second-year Savanaclaw student trailing behind him like a scolded kitten. The student had his collar grabbed firmly in Leona’s hand, feet barely touching the ground as he was dragged along by the scruff of his uniform.
You were still sitting on the porch steps when they appeared. Your eyes widened in shock.
“Leona…? What— who is that?”
Leona didn’t yell. He didn’t need to.
He dropped the student unceremoniously in front of you on the Ramshackle porch, tail still flicking with clear irritation.
“Explain.” Leona said flatly, voice low and dangerous.
The student stammered, eyes darting between you and Leona. “I-I just wanted to get back at the Prefect for the incident last week… It was supposed to be a funny illusion prank. I didn’t think Leona-senpai would actually see it—”
Leona’s ears flattened. “You didn’t think?” He let out a short, humorless laugh. “You made fake shadow of my herbivore getting cozy with some random asshole. You made me think they were sneaking around behind my back. And you thought that was funny? You’re quite literally asking your ass to get beaten.”
The student swallowed hard. “It was just a joke—”
“Joke’s over.”
Leona’s grip on the boy’s collar tightened, lifting him a few inches higher so they were eye-level. His voice dropped into that lazy, threatening drawl he used when he was truly pissed.
“Here’s what’s gonna happen, brat. You’re gonna apologize to the Prefect. Right now. On your knees. And you’re gonna mean it.”
The student dropped to his knees the second Leona released him, mumbling a shaky apology while staring at the ground. “I-I’m sorry, Prefect… It was stupid. I didn’t mean to cause that much trouble…”
You were still processing everything, voice quiet but firm. “You really scared me. And you made Leona think I was… doing something behind his back. That wasn’t funny at all.”
Leona watched with narrowed eyes, arms crossed. “Louder. And look at them when you say it.”
After the apology was properly delivered, Leona’s tail gave one last irritated flick.
“Good. Now for your punishment.”
He leaned down, voice calm but ice-cold.
“You’re on grunt duty for the rest of the year. Every afternoon you handle all the chores Ruggie usually does. Every night you’re cleaning the lounge until it sparkles. If I catch even one complaint — I’ll personally ‘roast’ you until you remember why you don’t mess with what’s mine.”
The boy nodded frantically, face pale. Leona’s expression didn’t soften, but his voice dropped just a fraction. “And if you ever pull something like this again — illusion or not — I won’t bother with chores. I’ll just make sure you regret ever being born in Sunset Savannah. Got it?”
“Yes, Leona-senpai…”
Leona waved a dismissive hand. “Now, get lost. And don’t let me see your face unless you’re working.”
As the boy scrambled away, Leona finally turned back to you. The anger was still simmering, but it had shifted into more protective. He dropped down beside you on the porch steps with a heavy sigh, slumping against your side.
“…Handled it,” he muttered, voice gruff. “Bastard won’t try that shit again.”
You were still staring in the direction the prankster had run, a little dazed. “Leona… was it really necessary to be that harsh? I didn’t even know what was happening at first.”
Leona huffed, but his arm came around you anyway, pulling you closer.
“Tch. He deserved it.” He paused, then added quieter, almost reluctantly, “The thought of you with someone else pissed me off more than I expected.”
AZUL ASHENGROTTO:
Azul had just finished his last class of the day, two files tucked neatly under his arm as he walked the quieter path behind the greenhouse toward the Hall of Mirrors. His mind was already running through the evening’s schedule — reviewing new deals, checking inventory, perhaps stealing a quiet moment with you later if you were free.
Then he saw them.
Two shadows stretched long across the grass in the fading afternoon light.
One was unmistakably yours — the familiar silhouette, the way you held yourself. The other belonged to a taller, broader figure. They were standing far too close. The stranger’s shadow leaned in, and yours tilted toward them in a way that looked unmistakably intimate. Almost flirtatious.
Azul stopped mid-step. His grip tightened on the folder until the papers crinkled.
“Y/N?” he called out, voice sharper than he intended.
The moment his voice rang out, both shadows jolted. Without a word, they bolted — disappearing behind the thick hedges in a frantic scramble of footsteps.
Azul stood frozen, heart hammering against his ribs. That was you. He was certain of it. The height, the posture, even the slight tilt of the head when startled — it was you. And you had run with someone else.
A cold, ugly feeling twisted in his chest. Sharp and immediate jealousy, mixed with the old familiar sting of insecurity. Had he misread everything? Had you grown tired of his calculated nature? Had someone else offered you something simpler, warmer, less… contractual?
His hands trembled slightly as he adjusted his glasses, trying to regain control. He’s Azul Ashengrotto. He does not lose composure over shadows. But the image refused to leave his mind — you, leaning in close to someone who wasn’t him.
He didn’t chase the shadows. Chasing after them would be undignified, and right now his pride was the only thing keeping him from spiraling. Instead, he turned on his heel and walked straight to Ramshackle.
He found you sitting on the porch steps, Grim sprawled lazily across your lap as you scrolled through your phone.
“Y/N,” he said, voice carefully controlled but tighter than usual.
You looked up, surprised by his tone. “Azul? You’re pretty early. Is everything okay?”
He stopped a few feet away, adjusting his glasses again — a nervous tic he couldn’t quite suppress.
“I saw you behind the greenhouse with someone else. You two were very close. When I called your name, both of you ran.”
Your eyes widened in genuine shock. “What? Azul, I’ve been here for the last forty minutes. Grim’s been using me as a bed the whole time.”
Grim yawned. “Yeah, and you’re warm. Stop moving.”
Azul stared at you, searching your face for any sign of deception. There was none — only honest confusion and a touch of worry.
“…It wasn’t you?” he asked, quieter now.
You shook your head. “No. I swear. I haven’t left Ramshackle since lunch.”
Azul’s shoulders slowly dropped. The cold knot in his chest loosened, but the lingering discomfort remained. He had jumped to conclusions. He had let his old fears — of being replaced, of not being enough — cloud his judgment.
“I see,” he murmured, removing his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. “Then it was an illusion spell. Someone seeking revenge on you, most likely.”
You stood up, gently moving Grim aside. “Azul… you really thought it was me?”
He hesitated, then gave a small, tight nod. “For a moment, yes. I apologize. My reaction was unbecoming. I let old insecurities get the better of me.”
You stepped closer and took his hand. “Hey. It’s okay to feel that way. But I’m not going anywhere. Especially not with some random guy.”
Azul let out a shaky breath, then pulled you into a careful hug, arms wrapping around you with surprising gentleness.
“I know,” he whispered against your hair. “But the thought of losing you… even hypothetically… is more distressing than I care to admit.”
He held you for a long moment, then pulled back just enough to look at you properly.
“I will find whoever cast that spell,” he said, voice regaining its usual calculated calm. “And I will make sure they understand that targeting you — or our relationship — is a very poor business decision.”
It took Azul less than forty minutes to find the culprit.
Jade and Floyd had been dispatched the moment he left Ramshackle. A few quiet words, a cold smile, and the twins vanished into the campus like shadows. They returned dragging a third-year Octavinelle student — the same student who had been holding a grudge ever since Azul rejected his “business proposal” last month and exposed his sloppy contract work in front of the entire Lounge.
The student was pale and sweating when the twins deposited him in the back room of the Mostro Lounge. Azul was already waiting, seated behind his desk with perfect posture. At least on the surface.
The moment the door clicked shut, the mask cracked.
“You,” Azul said, voice low and dangerously calm at first. “You thought it was clever to cast an illusion of the Prefect flirting with someone else? You wanted to make me doubt them?”
The guy tried to smile nervously. “It was just a little revenge prank, Ashengrotto. Nothing serious—”
“Nothing serious?”
Azul’s voice snapped like a whip. He shot up from his chair so fast it scraped loudly against the floor. The polite, calculated businessman vanished in an instant.
His sky-blue eyes were wide and manic as he slammed both hands on the desk, leaning forward with a sharp, unhinged laugh that made student flinch.
“You dared to mess with what’s mine?! You tried to plant doubts in my relationship with the Prefect — the one person who actually sees me as more than just a scheming man?!”
He laughed again, higher and more frantic, one hand coming up to tug roughly at his own silver hair.
“How stupid can you be?! Did you really think I wouldn’t find out? Did you think I’d just sit there politely while you tried to ruin the only good thing I have?!”
Jade watched with a calm, amused smile from the side. Floyd leaned against the wall, grinning like he was watching his favorite show.
Azul’s breathing was ragged now, the polished persona completely gone.
“You insignificant little fool,” he hissed, voice raw and venomous. “I should squeeze every last drop of value out of you until there’s nothing left. I should make you sign a contract that binds you to clean the Lounge floors with your tongue for the rest of your miserable school life!”
He paced behind the desk, still pulling at his hair, eyes wild.
“But no. That would be too easy. Instead, you’re going to apologize to the Prefect. On your knees. In front of the entire Lounge during peak hours. And then you’re going to work off every single thaumark of emotional damage you caused — with interest. Jade, Floyd — make sure he understands the terms. Thoroughly.”
Jade smiled sweetly. “Of course, Azul.”
Floyd cracked his knuckles with a delighted giggle. “Hee hee~ This is gonna be fun~”
The student looked like he was about to faint.
Azul finally stopped pacing. He took a deep, shaky breath, forcing his hands to stop trembling as he smoothed his hair back into place. The manic edge in his eyes slowly dulled, though the anger still simmered underneath.
“Get him out of my sight,” he said, voice returning to something closer to his usual tone, though still tight. “And make sure he never even thinks about looking in the Prefect’s direction again.”
As the twins dragged a whimpering student away, Azul sank back into his chair, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes. He had lost control again. But the thought of someone deliberately trying to hurt you — to make you look unfaithful, to make him doubt the one person who made him feel like he was enough — had pushed him past the point of politeness.
KALIM AL-ASIM:
The late afternoon sun was still warm as Kalim made his way back from Scarabia, a bright smile on his face and a small basket of fresh dates swinging from his hand. He had spent the last hour helping Jamil organize the next dorm event, but his thoughts kept drifting to you. You had promised to meet him near the fountain after your last class so the two of you could watch the sunset together. He was already planning all the fun things you could do but as he turned onto the quieter path behind the main courtyard, something odd caught his eye.
Two shadows stretched long across the grass in the golden light.
One was clearly yours — the familiar shape of your posture, the way you stood. The other belonged to a taller, broader figure. They were standing very close. Too close. The stranger’s shadow leaned in, and yours tilted up toward them in a way that looked… flirty? Like they were sharing a secret or about to…
Kalim stopped walking, head tilting in confusion. His usual bright smile faltered.
“Y/N…?” he called out, voice loud and puzzled. “Is that you? Who’s that with you?”
The moment his voice rang out, both shadows jolted. Without a word, they turned and ran — disappearing behind the thick hedges in a frantic scramble of footsteps.
Kalim blinked, staring at the empty spot where the shadows had been. His heart gave an uncomfortable little twist.
“…Huh?” He took a few steps forward, basket swinging forgotten at his side. “Y/N? Wait— why are you running?”
No answer. The path was silent again.
Kalim stood there for a long moment, brow furrowed in genuine confusion. He wasn’t angry yet, only simply lost. Why would you run away the second he called your name? And who was that person with you? You had seemed so close to them. Almost like… flirting?
The thought made his stomach feel weird. He trusted you. You were one of the brightest parts of his life at Night Raven College. You always smiled at his parties, listened to his stories, and never treated him like he was just the rich, cheerful heir. So why would you…?
He shook his head quickly, trying to push the uncomfortable feeling away. No, no — there had to be a good explanation. Maybe it wasn’t even you! Shadows could be tricky, right? Especially with all the magic flying around campus.
Still, the image wouldn’t leave his mind.
Kalim turned around and headed straight for Ramshackle, walking faster than usual. When he arrived, he found you sitting on the porch steps with Grim curled up beside you, looking perfectly normal as you scratched behind Grim’s ears.
“Y/N!” he called, waving the basket with forced cheerfulness even though his smile felt a little shaky. “There you are!“
You looked up, surprised by how quickly he had appeared. “Kalim? You’re early. I thought we were meeting at the fountain.”
Kalim stopped a few feet away, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Yeah… I was on my way there, but I saw two shadows behind the courtyard. One looked like you, and the other was some guy. You two were really close… like, really close. When I called your name, you both ran away.”
He tilted his head, red eyes wide and genuinely confused rather than accusatory. “Was that you? Why did you run? Did I interrupt something? I didn’t mean to scare you…”
You stared at him, completely taken aback. “Kalim, I’ve been here the whole time. Grim’s been demanding belly rubs for the last half hour. I haven’t left Ramshackle since lunch.”
Grim yawned. “Yeah, and you’re a good pillow. Don’t move.”
Kalim’s shoulders visibly relaxed, but the confused, sad look remained. “So… it wasn’t you?”
You shook your head. “No. I swear. Someone must have used an illusion spell. Probably revenge for that prank war last week. I had no idea anyone was still mad about it.”
Kalim let out a long breath, the tension draining out of him. He sat down heavily on the porch steps beside you, setting the basket of dates between you both.
“Oh… okay. That makes sense.” He was quiet for a moment, then added softly, “For a second I got really confused. It looked like you were… flirting with someone. And when you ran, I thought maybe I did something wrong. Or maybe you didn’t want to see me today.”
He smiled, but it was smaller than usual. “I know I can be a lot sometimes. I just… I really like spending time with you. The thought that you might be with someone else made my chest feel weird.“
You leaned against his side, resting your head on his shoulder. “Kalim, I’m not going anywhere. Especially not with some random guy. You’re the one I want to spend time with.”
Kalim’s smile brightened a little, though the lingering confusion was still there. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer, resting his cheek on top of your head.
“Okay… good.” He was quiet again, then added in a softer voice, “If someone really did cast that spell to hurt you, that’s not okay. I don’t like when people try to make my friends sad. But… I’m glad it wasn’t real.”
He offered you a date from the basket, eyes warm and hopeful once more.
“Want one? They’re really sweet. Just like you.”
Kalim stayed on the porch with you for a while longer, sharing the sweet dates from the basket and chatting about anything and everything — the lanterns he wanted to release later, the new recipe he wanted to try, funny situation in Scarabia.
But even as he smiled and laughed, a small, uncomfortable knot stayed in his chest. Someone had tried to hurt you. Someone had used magic to make fake shadows that looked like you were flirting with another person — specifically to make him doubt you. That wasn’t just a silly prank. That was mean. And Kalim didn’t like when people were mean to his friends.
After you went inside to help Grim with something, Kalim stayed sitting on the steps for a few minutes, swinging his legs and thinking. His usual bright energy felt a little dimmer.
Then he stood up, brushed the crumbs off his clothes, and headed straight back to Scarabia with a determined little bounce in his step.
“Jamil!” he called cheerfully as he entered the dorm lounge. “Jamil, are you here?”
Jamil appeared from the kitchen area, wiping his hands on a towel and already looking mildly exasperated. “What is it this time, Kalim?”
Kalim plopped down on one of the cushions, patting the spot beside him. “Sit with me for a second! Something happened today and I need your advice.”
Jamil sighed but sat down anyway, crossing his arms. “What kind of ‘something’?”
“So I was walking back from the meeting earlier, right? And I saw these two shadows — one looked exactly like Y/N, and the other was some random guy. They were standing really close, like… super close. Almost like they were flirting!” Kalim’s voice stayed bright, but there was a small, confused frown on his face. “When I called out to Y/N, both shadows just ran away really fast. But when I went to Ramshackle, Y/N was there the whole time. They said it must have been an illusion spell from someone who’s still mad about the prank war last week.”
Jamil’s expression shifted from mild annoyance to sharp focus. “An illusion spell specifically designed to make it look like the Prefect was being unfaithful… and it targeted you.”
Kalim nodded, swinging his legs. “Yeah. It made me feel really weird for a minute. Like maybe I did something wrong, or maybe Y/N didn’t want to see me anymore. But then Y/N explained it wasn’t real, so I feel better now! Still… it’s not nice to do that to someone, right?”
Jamil was quiet for a moment, eyes narrowing. “No. It isn’t.”
Kalim tilted his head, looking up at Jamil with that same innocent, hopeful expression. “So… do you think we should find out who did it? I don’t want to punish them super harshly or anything — maybe they were just really upset about that. But I also don’t want them to do it again. Especially not to Y/N.”
Jamil let out a slow breath, already calculating. “Leave it to me. I’ll look into it quietly. If it really was revenge for the prank war, I can handle it without causing a scene. You don’t need to get involved.”
Kalim’s face lit up with a bright smile. “Really? Thank you, Jamil! You’re the best! Just… make sure they know it wasn’t okay, alright? And maybe tell them that if they’re mad about something, they can just talk to me instead of doing mean magic tricks.”
Jamil gave a small nod, though his eyes held a sharper glint. “I’ll take care of it.”
Kalim beamed and jumped to his feet, already back to his usual sunny self. “Great! Then let’s go prepare for tonight’s sunset watching with Y/N! I want to release the prettiest lanterns for them!”
As Kalim bounced off toward his room to gather supplies, Jamil watched him go with a long-suffering sigh.
“…Always too forgiving,” he muttered under his breath. “But if someone thinks they can mess with the Prefect and get away with it… they’re going to learn otherwise.”
VIL SCHOENHEIT:
The late afternoon light filtered through the tall windows of the alchemy laboratory as Vil finished his lesson. His posture was impeccable, blonde hair perfectly styled, and his uniform spotless despite the hour spent brewing complex potions. He had been looking forward to meeting you near the Pomefiore courtyard — you had promised to help him choose new accessories for an upcoming photoshoot. As he walked the quieter path behind the greenhouse, something caught his eye.
Two shadows stretched long across the grass in the golden light.
One was unmistakably yours — the familiar silhouette, the way you held yourself. The other belonged to a taller, broader figure. They were standing far too close. The stranger’s shadow leaned in, and yours tilted toward them in a way that looked unmistakably flirtatious.
Vil stopped mid-step. His perfectly manicured nails dug into his palms.
“Y/N?” he called out, voice sharp and laced with confusion.
The moment his voice rang out, both shadows jolted. Without a word, they bolted — disappearing behind the thick hedges in a frantic scramble of footsteps.
Vil stood frozen, heart hammering against his ribs with a cold, ugly feeling he rarely allowed himself to feel. Jealousy. Sharp, immediate, and deeply unpleasant. His mind raced through every possibility: Had he been too critical lately? Had you grown tired of his high standards? Had someone else offered you something simpler, less demanding?
His fists clenched at his sides, nails pressing crescent marks into his skin. He maintained his composed exterior — chin high, expression cool — but inside, the anger simmered. How dare someone try to tarnish what was his? How dare you run?
He was about to take a step forward when a familiar voice called from behind him.
“Roi du Poison~”
Rook appeared at his side, eyes gleaming with knowing amusement. “I saw the shadows as well. A rather crude illusion spell, non? Someone seeking petty revenge on our dear Trickster, I suspect. The form was sloppy — the shadow’s posture was slightly off, and the movement lacked your beloved’s natural grace.”
Vil’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, though his voice remained icy. “You’re certain?”
Rook smiled brightly. “Positive. I’ve observed our Trickster far too closely to be fooled by such amateur work. Shall I track down the culprit for you? Or would you prefer to handle this yourself?”
Vil exhaled slowly, forcing his fists to unclench. “Find them. Discreetly. I want to know who thought they could play games with what belongs to me.”
Rook bowed theatrically. “As you wish, my queen.”
As Rook disappeared into the shadows, Vil turned on his heel and walked straight to Ramshackle, each step measured but tense. He found you sitting on the porch steps, looking perfectly normal as you scrolled through your phone.
“Y/N,” he said, voice carefully controlled.
You looked up, surprised by his tone. “Vil? You’re early. Is everything alright?”
He stopped a few feet away, arms crossed tightly. “I saw two shadows behind the greenhouse. One resembled you quite closely. The other was a stranger. You appeared to be… very intimate with them. When I called your name, both of you ran.”
Your eyes widened in genuine shock. “What? Vil, I’ve been here the whole time. I haven’t left Ramshackle since my last class.”
Vil studied your face very carefully.
“…It wasn’t you?” he asked, quieter now.
You shook your head. “No. I swear. Someone must have used an illusion spell. Probably revenge for that incident with the beauty contest last month. I had no idea anyone was still upset about it.”
Vil’s posture relaxed visibly. The cold anger in his chest eased into something more calculated. He stepped closer and gently took your chin between his fingers, tilting your face up to meet his eyes.
“I see,” he murmured. “Then it was a crude attempt to sow discord. How pathetic.”
He released your chin and brushed a strand of hair from your face with careful fingers.
“I apologize for jumping to conclusions. My reaction was unbecoming. But the thought of you with someone else, even as an illusion, was deeply unpleasant.” His voice softened just a fraction. “You are far too important to me to allow anyone to plant such doubts.”
He leaned in and pressed a soft, possessive kiss to your forehead.
“Rook is already looking into the culprit. They will learn that messing with what belongs to Vil Schoenheit is a grave mistake.”
Vil stayed with you on the Ramshackle porch until the last traces of tension had left his shoulders. He pressed one final, lingering kiss to your forehead before pulling away with his usual elegant composure.
“Stay here and rest, sweet potato. I have a small matter to attend to.”
You raised an eyebrow, but he only offered a serene smile. “Nothing you need to worry about. I’ll return shortly.”
He found Rook waiting for him just outside Pomefiore, a cheerful grin on his face and a rather nervous-looking third-year student in tow. The boy had his wrists bound with elegant golden ropes that Rook had clearly enchanted himself.
“Roi du Poison,” Rook announced with theatrical flair, “I present to you the culprit. He was quite easy to track once I followed the lingering traces of his sloppy illusion magic.”
The student paled when he saw Vil’s cold, flawless expression.
Vil didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to.
“Take him to the basement,” he said calmly, voice like chilled silk. “I’ll be down shortly.”
Rook’s smile widened with delight. “As you wish~”
The basement beneath Pomefiore was rarely used, but everyone in the dorm knew that it was a dark, eerie remnant of the Evil Queen’s old alchemy laboratory. It was the perfect place for “etiquette lessons” when Vil felt someone needed a more memorable correction. When Vil descended the stairs a few minutes later, the student was already standing in the center of the dimly lit room, wrists still bound, looking terrified.
Vil stopped a few feet away, arms crossed, posture impeccable.
“You cast an illusion spell to make it appear as though the Prefect was being unfaithful,” he said, voice dangerously calm. “You deliberately tried to damage my relationship with them. All because you were petty about a beauty contest you lost fairly.”
The student stammered, “I-It was just a prank—”
“Just a prank?” Vil’s eyes narrowed, the cold anger finally bleeding into his tone. “You dared to use my beloved’s image for your childish revenge? You made me doubt the one person who sees me as more than a perfect model?”
He took one step closer, heels clicking sharply on the stone floor.
“I do not tolerate anyone touching what is mine. Especially not with something as sloppy and distasteful as a half-baked illusion.”
The student tried to back away, but the ropes held him in place.
Vil’s smile was beautiful and terrifying. “You will apologize to the Prefect tomorrow. Publicly. In front of the entire school if I deem it necessary. After that, you will spend the next two weeks in this basement — assisting me with ‘etiquette training.’ You will learn proper respect, proper restraint, and most importantly… you will learn never to interfere with my relationship again.”
He leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a chilling whisper.
“And if I ever hear of you so much as looking in the Prefect’s direction with ill intent… I will make sure your time here feels like an eternity.”
The student nodded frantically, face ashen.
Vil straightened, smoothing his uniform with elegant fingers. “Rook, make sure he’s comfortable. We wouldn’t want our own student to feel unwelcome.”
Rook bowed with a delighted smile. “Of course, Vil. I’ll prepare the restraints~”
As Vil turned to leave the basement, the last of his cold fury settled into quiet satisfaction. No one messed with what belonged to him.
IDIA SHROUD:
Idia had actually left his room.
Shockingly, he was walking on his own two legs instead of hiding behind his tablet like usual. The Board Game Club activity had run longer than expected, and for once he hadn’t felt like immediately retreating into his cave. He was even humming a quiet chiptune under his breath as he headed back toward Ignihyde, hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets.
Then he saw them.
Two shadows stretched long across the dimly lit path near the edge of the courtyard.
One was unmistakably yours — the familiar silhouette, the way you stood. The other belonged to some random taller guy. They were way too close. The stranger’s shadow leaned in, and yours tilted up toward him in a way that looked… flirty? Like you were sharing a secret or about to—
Idia stopped dead, hair flickering with anxious blue and pink flames.
“U-uh… Y/N…?” he mumbled, voice barely above a whisper, already regretting speaking at all.
The moment the words left his mouth, both shadows jolted. Without hesitation, they bolted —disappearing behind the nearest building in a frantic scramble of footsteps.
Idia stood there frozen, hood slipping slightly over his eyes as his brain short-circuited.
“…Huh?”
His stomach dropped like he’d just fallen into a bottomless pit in a horror game. That was you. He was pretty sure. The height, the posture, even the little head tilt when startled — it was you. And you had run with someone else.
His mind immediately spiraled.
Of course. Why wouldn’t they? I’m just the gross otaku who barely leaves his room. They probably got tired of dealing with my social battery dying every five minutes and found someone normal. Someone who doesn’t talk in gamer slang and hide behind a screen all day.
His hair flared brighter, shifting into anxious pinks and oranges. He tugged his hood lower, shoulders curling in as he turned around and speed-walked straight back to Ignihyde without another word.
He didn’t run after the shadows. What was the point? If you were really doing something behind his back, confronting you in person would just make him look even more pathetic.
The second he was back in the safety of his dimly lit room, he flopped onto his bed, pulled his tablet close, and opened your chat.
Idia: hey Idia: u free rn? Idia: can u come over to ignihyde Idia: …pls
He stared at the screen, knees drawn up to his chest, hair still flickering with nervous colors. Every second that passed without a reply made the ugly feeling in his chest worse.
When you finally texted back that you were on your way, he didn’t feel relieved, but only more nauseous.
You arrived about ten minutes later. Idia was still huddled on his bed with his hood up, barely looking at you when you walked in.
“…Hey,” he mumbled, voice quiet and strained. “You… you weren’t behind the courtyard earlier, right? With some guy?”
You blinked, clearly confused. “What? No, I was in the library finishing an assignment. Why?”
Idia’s shoulders hunched even more. “I saw two shadows. One looked like you. The other was some random dude. You guys were… really close. Like, intimately close. When I called your name, both of you ran.”
He tugged at his hair, voice cracking slightly. “I know I’m probably just being paranoid and gross and overthinking everything like always, but… it looked so real. And then you ran. So my brain went full doom route and started listing all the reasons why you’d finally get tired of the shut-in otaku boyfriend who can’t even hold a normal conversation without glitching—”
You sat down on the edge of his bed, gently pulling his hands away from his hair before he could tug any harder.
“Idia,” you said softly, “it wasn’t me. Someone must have used an illusion spell. Probably revenge for losing against me last month. I had no idea anyone was still mad about it.”
Idia stared at you for a long moment, hair slowly shifting back toward calmer blues.
“…For real?” he whispered.
You nodded. “For real. I’ve been in the library the whole time. Grim’s probably still there struggling.”
Idia let out a shaky breath, then flopped backward onto his bed, covering his face with both hands.
“Ughhh… I’m such a loser. I saw some fake shadows and immediately went full ‘my partner is cheating on me with a normie’ speedrun. My social anxiety deserves a participation trophy for that one.”
He peeked at you through his fingers, cheeks burning. “Sorry. I should’ve just asked instead of spiraling like a malfunctioning NPC.”
You smiled and lay down beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. “It’s okay. I totally get why you panicked. But I’m not going anywhere. Especially not with some random guy.”
Idia was quiet for a moment, then hesitantly wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer.
“…Good,” he mumbled, voice muffled against your hair. “’Cause the thought of you with someone else made my HP drop to zero. Like, instant game over.”
After you left his room, he stayed on his bed for a long time, staring at the ceiling with his hood pulled low. His flaming hair, usually a soft glowing blue, had shifted into a deep, angry red-orange that flickered like a warning sign.
Ortho hovered nearby, scanning his brother’s vitals with a worried tilt of his head.
“Big Brother… your heart rate is elevated and your hair temperature is rising. Are you okay?”
Idia didn’t answer right away. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and flat.
“Someone cast an illusion spell. Made it look like the Prefect was flirting with some random normie.“
Ortho’s eyes widened. “That’s awful! Do you want me to run a trace on the magic signature?”
Idia sat up slowly, pulling his tablet onto his lap. His fingers moved across the screen with sharp, precise taps.
“Yeah. Do it. But don’t bring anyone here. I’m not letting some random into my room.”
While Ortho began scanning the campus’s residual magic traces from outside, Idia opened several windows at once. One was the school’s anonymous reporting system, another was a backdoor he’d quietly installed into the magic surveillance network months ago, and the third was a private server where he started venting through rapid-fire messages in an anonymous guild chat — his usual way of dealing with rage without actually yelling at anyone.
His hair burned brighter, shifting into vivid red-orange flames.
“Some normie thought it would be funny to mess with my life,” he muttered, voice cold and intense. “They wanted to watch me freak out. Probably laughing somewhere right now, thinking they got one over on the shut-in otaku.”
Ortho floated back in a few minutes later, projecting a small holographic profile.
“I found it! The illusion spell was cast from the east side of the courtyard. The signature matches a third-year Ignihyde student.“
Idia’s eyes narrowed behind his hair. “Him… yeah. He’s been salty ever since I called his build trash in the guild chat last month.”
He didn’t move from his bed. He didn’t even open the door.
Instead, he opened a private direct message on the school’s encrypted chat system and started typing.
Idia: hey Idia: nice illusion spell btw Idia: really creative making it look like the Prefect was flirting with some random normie Idia: almost made me believe it for 0.3 seconds Idia: 10/10 for effort Idia: too bad the shadow posture was off by 12% and the movement was super stiff lol
He paused, hair still burning red-orange, then kept typing with cold, deliberate taps.
Idia: here’s what’s gonna happen Idia: you’re gonna apologize to the Prefect. and write a whole letter. right now. Idia: you’re gonna tell them exactly what you did and why Idia: and then you’re gonna delete every single account you have on the school servers Idia: stay out of my guild, stay out of my raid groups, and stay out of my sight for the rest of the yearIdia: i couldn’t care less if you’re busy, im expecting you to do this immediately. Idia: if I see your name pop up anywhere near the Prefect again Idia: I’ll make sure your social life becomes a permanent game over.
The prankster’s reply came almost immediately — a string of panicked messages begging for mercy.
Idia didn’t bother replying. He simply forwarded the entire conversation to the Prefect’s chat with a short note:
Idia: someone for real tried to mess with you Idia: it’s handled Idia: …sorry i freaked out earlier
He flopped backward onto his bed with a long groan, covering his face with both hands as his hair slowly faded back to its usual blue.
“…I hate people,” he mumbled. “Why do they always have to ruin good things?”
Ortho floated over and gently patted his brother’s arm. “You did good, Big Brother. You protected the Prefect without physical violence.”
Idia peeked through his fingers, cheeks still flushed.
“…Yeah. But now I feel gross for getting so worked up. I should probably text them again and make sure they’re okay.”
MALLEUS DRACONIA:
The evening air was cool and still as Malleus walked back from his History lesson. The fae moved with his usual graceful stride, horns catching the last rays of the setting sun. His mind was pleasantly occupied with thoughts of you — you had promised to meet him later near the Ramshackle so the two of you could watch the stars together, as you often did.
As he turned onto the quieter path behind the main courtyard, something unusual caught his eye.
Two shadows stretched long across the grass in the fading light.
One was unmistakably yours — the familiar silhouette, the way you held yourself. The other belonged to a taller, broader figure. They were standing far too close. The stranger’s shadow leaned in, and yours tilted up toward them in a way that looked unmistakably flirtatious.
Malleus stopped mid-step. His emerald eyes narrowed.
“Child of Man?” he called out, voice deep and laced with confusion. “Is that you?”
The moment his voice rang out, both shadows jolted. Without a word, they bolted — disappearing behind the thick hedges in a frantic scramble of footsteps.
Malleus remained perfectly still for a long moment, the air around him growing heavier. A low rumble of thunder echoed in the distance, even though the sky had been clear just seconds ago.
He did not chase the shadows. He did not need to.
His ancient senses could already feel the faint, artificial hum of illusion magic lingering in the air — sloppy, rushed, and clearly not real. The posture of “your” shadow had been slightly off. The movement lacked your natural grace. And the way both figures had fled the instant he spoke… it reeked of guilt and fear.
But even knowing it was fake, the image had already burned itself into his mind.
You. Leaning close to someone else. Looking up at them the way you sometimes looked up at him.
A cold, dangerous feeling coiled in his chest. Not simple jealousy — something far older and more volatile. The kind of anger that made the ground tremble faintly beneath his feet and caused small sparks of green lightning to flicker around his horns.
How dare someone use your image like that. How dare they try to plant doubt in the one person who had ever treated him as Malleus — not as the feared Dragon Prince, not as a monster, but as someone worthy of companionship and warmth.
His clawed fingers twitched. For a brief, terrifying second, the air grew thick with raw magical power. A nearby tree branch cracked under the sudden pressure, frost spreading across the grass in jagged patterns.
Then he exhaled slowly, forcing the storm back down.
No.
He would not lose control here. Not when it involved you.
Malleus turned and teleported himself straight to Ramshackle. When he arrived, he found you sitting on the porch steps, looking perfectly normal as you scrolled through your phone with Grim curled up beside you.
“Child of Man,” he said, voice low and carefully controlled.
You looked up, surprised by the unusual tension in his tone. “Malleus! You’re early. Is everything okay?”
He stopped a few feet away, horns casting long shadows across the ground.
“I saw two shadows behind the courtyard. One resembled you quite closely. The other was a stranger. You appeared to be… very intimate with them. When I called your name, both of you ran.”
Your eyes widened in genuine shock. “What? Malleus, I’ve been here the whole time. I haven’t left Ramshackle since my last class.”
Malleus studied your face carefully.
“…It wasn’t you?” he asked, quieter now.
You shook your head. “No. I swear. Someone must have used an illusion spell. Probably revenge for that incident with the mirror last month. I had no idea anyone was still upset about it.”
Malleus was silent for a long moment. The tension in his shoulders slowly eased, but the lingering cold anger remained — directed not at you, but at whoever had dared to use your image so cruelly.
“I see,” he murmured. “Then it was a petty trick. How disappointing.”
He stepped closer and gently took your hand, his large, clawed fingers careful as always.
“I apologize for jumping to conclusions. The sight unsettled me more than I expected.” His voice dropped, laced with quiet intensity. “You are the first person in centuries who has treated me as Malleus — not as a monster or a prince to be feared. The thought of losing that… even as an illusion… was deeply unpleasant.”
He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your knuckles.
“I will find whoever cast that spell,” he said, voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge. “And they will learn that using your image to cause me distress is a grave mistake.”
The Diasomnia lounge was dimly lit by floating green flames, casting long shadows across the ancient stone walls. Malleus sat in his usual high-backed chair, posture regal but shoulders slightly tense. Lilia lounged gracefully on the armrest beside him, legs swinging like a child. Sebek and Silver stood at attention on either side of the two seated fae, backs straight and expressions serious — the perfect picture of loyal retainers.
Malleus had just finished recounting what he had seen earlier: the two shadows behind the courtyard, one resembling you and the other a stranger, standing far too close, the way they had fled the moment he called your name.
The silence that followed was heavy.
Sebek was the first to react. His face turned bright red with righteous fury, fists clenched at his sides as he stepped forward.
“Young Master!” he boomed, voice echoing through the lounge. “How dare some insolent worm use the Prefect’s image for such a vile trick! To create an illusion of them being unfaithful — it is an outrage! An insult to your honor and to the Prefect’s dignity!”
He dropped to one knee, eyes blazing with determination. “Please grant me permission to hunt down this coward immediately! I will drag them before you by the scruff of their neck and make them confess every detail of their pathetic scheme! No one disrespects you and escapes punishment!”
Silver, standing beside him, had a much calmer but still serious expression. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword as he spoke quietly. “I agree with Sebek. If someone is targeting the Prefect to hurt you, Young Master, we should handle it swiftly. I can assist in tracking them down. It’s our duty to protect what matters to you.”
Lilia, still perched on the armrest, watched the scene with a small, knowing smile. His crimson eyes sparkled with amusement, but there was a sharper edge beneath it.
He tilted his head, smile softening into something more genuine. “It must have been quite unsettling, huh. Seeing something that looked like your dear partner being so close to another. Even knowing it was fake, those kinds of images can sting, can’t they? Especially for someone who has waited for a long time for a real companionship.”
Malleus remained silent for a moment, fingers tapping lightly on the arm of his chair. His expression was calm, but the faint crackle of green lightning danced between his horns for a brief second before he suppressed it.
“…It was unpleasant indeed.” he admitted quietly. “For a moment, I allowed myself to imagine the worst. But I know the Prefect would not betray me in such a manner. Still… the fact that someone would use their image so cruelly to cause me distress is unacceptable.”
He turned his gaze to Sebek and Silver, voice steady and commanding.
“Sebek. Silver. You have my permission to investigate. Find the one responsible. Bring them to me unharmed — I wish to speak with them personally. But do not cause unnecessary destruction. I will not have this escalate into a larger incident.”
Sebek shot to his feet, saluting sharply. “Yes, Young Master! I will not fail you! This coward will tremble before your righteous judgment!”
Silver gave a respectful bow. “Understood. We’ll handle it discreetly.”
As Sebek and Silver left to begin their search, Lilia remained behind, watching Malleus with a gentle, knowing gaze.
“You really have grown attached to them, haven’t you?” he said softly. “It’s nice to see. Just remember that not every shadow is real. And the Prefect chose you, Malleus. Don’t let one foolish prank make you doubt that.”
Malleus nodded slowly, eyes drifting toward the window where the moon was rising.
“I know,” he murmured. “But I will still make sure it never happens again.”
The heavy doors of the Diasomnia lounge swung open as Sebek and Silver returned, escorting the culprit between them. The prankster — a third-year student — looked utterly terrified the moment he laid eyes on Malleus.
Sebek shoved the boy forward with a booming voice. “Young Master! We have apprehended the one responsible! This insolent fool cast an illusion spell to create false shadows of the Prefect in an attempt to sow discord between you and them!”
Silver stood at attention, voice calm but firm. “He didn’t expect you of all people to see it, Young Master. He admitted it was revenge for the incident with the mirror last month.”
The student dropped to his knees before Malleus could even speak, trembling.
Malleus remained seated in his high-backed chair, horns casting long shadows across the room. His expression was calm, but the air around him grew heavier, a low rumble of thunder echoing faintly outside despite the clear night sky.
“You used the Prefect’s image,” Malleus said, voice deceptively soft but carrying the weight of centuries, “to create the illusion of them being unfaithful. You wanted to cause me distress. You wanted to plant doubt in the one person who has ever treated me as something other than a monster or a prince to be feared.”
The student whimpered, head bowed. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t think you’d see it—”
Lilia, perched on the armrest beside Malleus, let out a light, amused chuckle, though his crimson eyes were sharp. “Oh my. You really didn’t think this through, did you? Using the Prefect’s likeness to mess with Malleus of all people? That’s quite the bold mistake.”
Sebek looked ready to explode. “How dare you! You should be grateful the Young Master is showing restraint! If it were up to me, I would have already—”
Malleus raised a hand, silencing Sebek instantly. He leaned forward slightly, emerald eyes glowing with restrained power.
“You will apologize to the Prefect,” he said calmly. “Write a full letter. And you will explain exactly what you did and why. After that, you will spend the next month assisting Lilia with his nightly training sessions — as a moving target. You will learn firsthand how it feels to be the victim of someone else’s amusement.”
The student’s face went deathly pale.
Lilia clapped his hands with delight. “Wonderful idea! I’ll make sure he gets plenty of exercise~”
Sebek saluted sharply. “We will ensure he completes his punishment, Young Master!”
Silver gave a respectful bow. “We’ll keep an eye on him.”
As the two retainers escorted the trembling student out of the lounge, Lilia turned to Malleus with a gentle, knowing smile and patted his shoulder affectionately. “You should go and find Prefect. I’m sure they’d rather spend the evening with you than worry about silly shadow prank.”
Malleus stood, a faint, fond smile finally touching his lips. “Yes… I believe I will.”
“scientists don’t want you know” is a phrase that always cracks me up because if you actually meet a scientist they will be shaking and crying like an overstimulated chihuahua with the need to let you know
tags: fluff, GN!reader, reader is Yuu, lowkey jealous Jamil, i might edit this later,, ooc Minhaj💔💔 (I really hope I gave him justice atleast.)
a/n: this writing was inspired by @raven-at-the-writing-desk ‘s thought about Minhaj. ts took me so long to finish sighs
The night market of Silk City was a living dream.
Colorful lanterns swayed overhead like captured stars, their warm golden light spilling across crowded stalls. The air was thick with the scent of spiced honey pastries, sizzling lamb skewers, and fragrant incense. Fireworks burst overhead in brilliant showers of red and gold, their crackling echoes mixing with laughter, bargaining shouts, and the distant strum of traditional instruments.
You had only stepped away for a moment — just to admire a stall glittering with delicate glass ornaments that caught the light like tiny captured suns. One second the rest of your group was still visible through the crowd; the next, they were gone, swallowed by the festival’s lively chaos.
Now you were thoroughly lost.
“Excuse me,” you tried again, holding up a small brass trinket shaped like a flying lantern. “How much for this?”
The merchant’s eyes narrowed, sizing you up. “Fifty thaumarks. No less, outsider.”
Your stomach sank. You didn’t even have ten on you. The language barrier and your empty pockets made bargaining feel impossible.
Before you could open your mouth to try, a warm, confident voice cut smoothly through the tension.
“Thirty-five, and you throw in that little paper fan for our friend here. Come on — it’s festival night. Be generous.”
You turned.
The boy who had spoken was standing just behind your shoulder. He had warm brown skin that glowed under the lantern light, clever dark eyes framed by long lashes, and dark brown hair mostly tucked under a simple hood, though a few loose strands fell messily across his forehead. His clothes were ordinary — a loose cream tunic, a patterned sash tied at the waist — but he carried himself with an easy, almost magnetic confidence that made him stand out even in disguise.
The merchant grumbled but eventually accepted the coins. The stranger paid the difference without hesitation, then gently took your wrist and tugged you into the flowing river of people before the merchant could change his mind.
“Quick thinking back there,” you said, still a little breathless as you kept pace beside him. “I didn’t know what I was going to do.”
He flashed you a bright, playful grin. “You looked like you were about to get eaten alive. First time in Silk City?”
“Something like that,” you admitted with a small laugh. “I got separated from my group. One minute they were there, and the next thing I know, the crowd just swallowed them.”
He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “That happens more often than you’d think during festival season. Name’s Minhaj, by the way. And you?”
You told him your name. He repeated it softly, like he was tasting it, then nodded. “Nice to meet you, lost traveler. Welcome to the festival. Most tourists only come to see the fancy parades and official events. Want me to show you the good stuff before your friends track you down?”
He offered his hand, palm up — an open, casual invitation. Something about his energy felt somehow safe, so you took it.
Minhaj moved through the bazaar like someone who knew every hidden corner by heart. He ducked under hanging lanterns, wove between tightly packed stalls, and pointed out little wonders you would have missed on your own.
“Look at this!” he said, stopping at a street performer making shadow puppets that danced like living creatures on a cloth screen. “In the palace they have fancy light shows with magic, but nothing beats these old-school ones. See how the dragon breathes fire? Pure talent.”
You laughed as the shadow dragon roared dramatically. “That’s actually really impressive.”
“Right?” Minhaj’s eyes lit up. “Festivals always have so many little things like this. Back home— I mean, where I’m from — everything is so planned to the perfection. But these ones are so much real and interesting.”
He bought you a warm honey pastry from a nearby vendor and handed it over with a teasing grin. “Try it.“
You hesitated. “Wait, you didn’t have to—“
He shook his head with a smile. “I insist. You’re literally new around here.”
You slowly took a bite and immediately got powdered sugar on your nose. Minhaj burst out laughing, reaching out without thinking to gently brush it off your cheek with his thumb. The casual touch sent a small, unexpected spark through you.
“You wear it well,” he teased, eyes lingering on your face a moment longer than necessary. “Most people look ridiculous. You just look cute.”
Your cheeks warmed. “Smooth talker.”
He winked. “Only when it’s deserved.”
When a particularly loud firework burst overhead, painting the sky in brilliant teal and gold, he grinned and tugged you toward a narrow set of stairs. “Oh, they’re starting! Come on — best view is up here.”
On the quiet rooftop, the noise of the crowd faded into a distant, joyful hum. The entire city stretched out beneath you like a sea of glittering jewels. Minhaj sat beside you, legs dangling over the edge, looking completely at ease yet somehow restless.
He sighs and let his head fall back. “Phew, finally away from all that noise.”
Then, feeling your eyes on him, he glanced at you with a smirk. “Is there something you want to ask me? Your stare is quite intense.”
You couldn’t hide your surprised expression as you blushed in embarrassment. “Sorry… But yeah, I do have a question.”
“Alright then, ask away.”
“…You’re not from around here, are you?” you asked quietly.
He tilted his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “What gave me away?”
You shrugged. “You are moving as if you’re not supposed to be here… but really want to be at the same time. Did you sneak out?”
He let out a soft laugh, leaning back on his hands. “Sharp. I like that.” After a pause, his voice grew quieter. “Where I’m from, the place gets… suffocating sometimes. Everyone expects me to be perfect. Acting properly. Always “wear that”, “do that” and saying the right things. I just wanted one night where I could be normal and on my own. Eating street food. Watching fireworks. Talking to people without them being formal all the time.”
You understood that feeling more than he could possibly know.
“I get it,” you said softly, looking out at the glowing city. “I’m… not from this world at all. I just showed up here one day with no warning. Everything feels strange and overwhelming. Sometimes I feel really trapped too — like I’m stuck in a story that isn’t mine, and I don’t know how to get back home.”
Minhaj turned to look at you fully then, his clever brown eyes softening in the glow of the fireworks.
“Then tonight,” he said, voice warm and sincere, “we should take this time as our only opportunity to be free.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a single shiny red apple, tossing it gently into your lap with that same playful grin.
You spent hours talking, laughing and sharing pieces of yourselves without giving away too much. He asked you question after question about your world: what the sky looked like at night, what kind of music people listened to, whether you used magic in your world or not. You asked him about his life too — why he felt trapped, what he wished he could do if no one was watching.
At one point he spotted what looked like guards in the distance and pulled you into a playful chase across rooftops and alleyways, both of you laughing breathlessly as you vaulted over low walls and ducked behind stalls.
You stumbled on a loose tile once. Minhaj caught you effortlessly, arms wrapping around your waist to steady you. For a heartbeat, you were pressed close, both breathing hard under the colorful sky. His eyes met yours, something softer and deeper flickering behind the playfulness.
“You okay?” he asked, voice quieter than before.
“Yeah,” you whispered. “Thanks to you.”
He didn’t let go right away. When he finally did, his fingers brushed yours one last time.
When the first hints of dawn began to lighten the horizon, he walked you back toward the main square where you could hear familiar voices calling your name.
“I should go,” he said, reluctance clear in his tone. He still hadn’t fully let go of your hand. “But… I hope we meet again someday, Yuu.”
He gave your hand one last gentle squeeze, then stepped back into the fading crowd with a final bright smile and a wave over his shoulder.
As you watched his figure disappear into the bustling streets of Silk City, something warm and unfamiliar lingered in your chest.
“Yuu!”
Months had passed since that magical night in Silk City, but you still sometimes caught yourself thinking about the boy with the confident grin who had bought you a honey pastry and pulled you across rooftops. The interscholastic competition between Night Raven College and Royal Sword Academy had turned the campus into a lively spectacle. Banners fluttered in the breeze, students from both schools mingled excitedly, and the air felt charged with anticipation for the upcoming matches.
You were wandering the grounds alone when a familiar voice called out behind you.
“Hey… you look familiar. Have we met before?”
You turned — and your heart skipped.
Standing there in the sharp teal-and-gold Dunasmina uniform was a tall, handsome guy with long dark brown hair tied in a neat side braid with teal ribbons. His warm brown eyes were locked on you, sparkling with clear recognition and a hint of mischief.
It was Minhaj.
You blinked, then laughed softly. “Minhaj? From the festival in Silk City?”
His grin widened, bright and genuine, though you caught a flicker of something nervous in his eyes for a split second. “Yeah, it was me. I was hoping you’d remember. I’ve been looking forward to running into you again ever since that night.”
You were still processing. “I never even got to thank you properly. You just disappeared into the crowd.”
“I know,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish laugh. “Didn’t want to drop the whole ‘crown prince’ bomb and ruin the vibe. Most people start acting all weird once they know. But that night was for real fun. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
He offered his hand again — palm up, just like he had back then. “So… want to continue our little tour? I know a quiet spot with a great view of the arena.”
He sensed your slight hesitation again. “Don’t worry, we’ll come back before the match starts.”
You nodded and slowly took his hand. His fingers were warm as he led you away from the main path, chatting casually while stealing quick glances at you like he still couldn’t quite believe you were real.
“So, how’ve you been?” he asked, voice light. “Still getting lost in markets, or have you figured out how to keep up with your group now?”
You laughed. “I’ve gotten a bit better at not wandering off. But that night was pretty memorable. The rooftop, the fireworks, the apple you tossed me… it stuck with me.”
Minhaj’s smile softened. “Hah, same here, it stuck with me too. Most people only see me as a prince. But you just talked to me like I was some random guy sneaking out for street food. Would have anyone from the palace seen that, they would go crazy.”
He led you to a quieter corner where a beautiful magic carpet was waiting, hovering gently off the ground. His eyes lit up with excitement.
“Ready for the scenic route? Hold on tight if you’re scared of heights,” he said, climbing on first. “I’ve got you. I promise.”
You climbed on behind him, arms wrapping around his waist as the carpet rose smoothly into the air. The wind tugged at his braid and your clothes. Minhaj glanced back over his shoulder, still smiling.
“Best view on campus. No stuffy rules up here. So… tell me more about Night Raven College. Is it as interesting as it looks from the outside?”
You leaned a little closer so he could hear you over the wind. “It’s worse. I live in this run-down dorm called Ramshackle with my three troublemaker friends — Ace, Deuce, and Grim. They’re like magnets for disaster.” You rolled your eyes. “Ace is always dragging everyone into stupid bets, Deuce tries to be responsible but ends up punching his way through problems, and Grim… well, he eats everything in sight. Last week they somehow turned the cafeteria into a battlefield over who got the last slice of cake.”
Minhaj laughed, the sound bright and genuine. “They sound exhausting and fun at the same time. What’s the worst thing they’ve done?”
You thought for a second. “Probably the time they tried to ‘help’ with a dorm inspection and accidentally released a bunch of magical paint that turned the entire lounge into a rainbow mess. I spent three hours cleaning with them while they blamed each other.“
Minhaj released another laugh. “Oh goodness, that’s hilarious. I would have loved to see that.”
You rolled your eyes at the memory. “Yeah no. I don’t want to experience that again.”
He was quiet for a moment, then said softly, “Sounds nice. Having people who make life much funnier. I’m jealous.”
The carpet dipped gently as he guided it toward a quieter viewpoint. You could see the arena below, teams warming up.
Before you could reply, a sharp voice called from the ground.
“Prefect!”
Jamil was standing there, arms crossed, looking up at the floating carpet with clear disapproval.
“Prince Minhaj,” he said smoothly, deliberately using the title, “it is not proper for you to be mingling so casually with Night Raven College student right before the match.“
Minhaj sighed, but kept his voice light. “Relax, Jamil. We were just talking. Haven’t I told you to stop calling me that?”
Jamil apologized with smug smile. “My apologies.”
Then, his gaze flicked to you. “And you, Prefect. Behaving so casually with the opposing team’s dorm leader could cause unnecessary complications. It would be best if you returned to our group and stopped fraternizing with the enemy.”
Minhaj rolled his eyes but didn’t argue further. He guided the carpet down smoothly and helped you step off.
“Watch my match closely, alright?” he said, giving you that same bright wink from the festival night. “I’ll show you how cool I can be when I’m not running from guards or hiding on rooftops.”
With one last playful wave over his shoulder, he headed off toward the arena, braid swaying.
You stood there, heart beating a little faster, watching him go.
As soon as Minhaj was out of earshot, Jamil turned to you with a long sigh, his usual composed mask firmly in place.
“…Really, Prefect?” he said, voice calm but with a faint edge. “Prince Minhaj? Of all people?”
You raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with talking to him? He seems nice.”
Jamil adjusted his hoodie, eyes narrowing slightly. “Nice is one word for it. He’s the first prince of the Scalding Sands. He may act kind and approachable, but people like him always come with complications. You saw how quickly he pulled you onto that carpet. He’s used to getting what he wants without thinking about consequences.”
He paused, then added in a tone that was almost too casual, “Besides… you seemed quite comfortable with him. Laughing, holding on during the ride… It’s unusual to see you that relaxed with someone from the opposing school.”
There was the tiniest hint of something sharper beneath his words — not quite anger, but definitely not neutral. Jamil quickly smoothed it over with a small, polite smile.
“I’m only saying this for your sake. Getting too friendly with royalty can lead to misunderstandings. Especially when that royalty is known for running away from his own guards and causing scenes. It might be better to keep some distance during the competition.”
You tilted your head, catching the subtle tension. “You sound almost jealous, Jamil.”
Jamil’s eyes widened for a split second before he let out a soft, controlled chuckle.
“Jealous? Hardly. I simply know how these things tend to go. Prince Minhaj has a habit of charming people and then disappearing back to his palace when things get inconvenient. I’d rather not see you get caught up in that.”
He glanced toward the arena where Minhaj had gone, then back at you with a faint, almost reluctant sigh.
“…Just be careful. That’s all I’m saying.”
Jamil gave you one last measured look before turning to leave.
“Come on. We should head back to our side before the match starts.”
You watched him walk away, a small smile tugging at your lips.
You remember how we visited Silk City back in Jamil’s hometown event, A Firelit Sky? How Kalim said that this year it’s the Asim family’s turn to host them all?? Remember how we spent a lot of time in the bazaars there???
Remember how, in the film, Princess Jasmine wore a peasant’s disguise to sneak out of the palace???? How that’s where she ends up meeting Aladdin and forming that genuine bond in spite of their class differences????? And how that leads to them forming an even deeper bond when they meet again down the line?
WHAT IF
Yuu actually first met Minajael all the way back during the Fireworks Festival, when the group went on the trip with the Scarabia duo... It wouldn't be completely out of the question, given the set-up. Kalim's family is hosting, so it would make sense for them to invite their relatives. And why wouldn't the royals of the country show up to the event?
Minajael is stated to sneak out of the palace multiple times, causing a stir in the media in the process. What if he just so happened to be in his commoner's disguise at the same time NRC students were visiting with Kalim and Jamil??? You know, this one:
What better time would there be to explore outside of the palace than during a festival, when people from all over Twisted Wonderland are visiting and the local businesses are at their busiest? There would be so much to see and to experience!
And maybe--just maybe--Minajael bumps into Yuu (somehow separated from the NRC group, probably lost?) while he's out and about? Perhaps he's even trying to escape guards that are looking for him, and Yuu helps him out like how Aladdin helped Jasmine escape the angry merchant. Or maybe he plays the role of Aladdin? Yuu could get into some kind of misunderstanding with a merchant and BAM suddenly there’s Minajael, come to rescue them and talk them out of it.
Then they could run off together and have fun, reenact a lot of those romantic Aladdin-Jasmine moments from the movie. Minajael tossing Yuu an apple, offering a flower he picked, evading capture hand-in-hand, vaulting across rooftops Yuu accidentally stumbles and falls right into his arms, and more. Maybe they'd even open up to one another about their personal problems. Minajael feels "trapped" (in his princely obligations), and Yuu feels "trapped" too (in a strange new world). When they part ways, he's left feeling like he's made a genuine friend, a real connection.
It kinda fits for Yuu since they’re pushed by the narrative as someone who can connect with others. They feel like an Aladdin too, since they’re impoverished and live in a run-down building for most of the school year, but generally come off as a good person.
And then when Minajael comes to RSA for the interscholastic competition, he recognizes Yuu so he's automatically hitting it off with them www Yuu may not remember him, so he'd play coy and skirt around it, not wanting to outright tell them where they may have met before. Bruh, he invites them on a magic carpet ride and encourages them to hold onto him if they're scared of heights 💀
faibfuayyaeipafeib BUT IMAGINE JAMIL (whom Minajael plays against in Relic Labyrinth) SEEING THIS AND JUST. COMING IN TO BREAK THEM MAPART UNDER THE GUISE OF "it's not proper for a prince to mingle with us common folk"???? He'd even address Minajael as a prince to subtly get under his skin (fully knowing that Minajael dislikes being referred to that way). Maybe Jamil would also scold Yuu as well, either for "befriending the enemy" or "behaving so casually" with royalty.
So Jamil manages to successfully chase of Minajael for now--but right before the prince leaves, he gives a little wave and a wink, asking you to please watch his match veeery carefully. He'll show you how cool he can be!
Y’all know how the whole ‘scent’ thing is used in fics? Mainly Savanaclaw but also for the ones with keen senses - like Vil, for example. Also the octo-trio. Grim too.
Honestly anyone could fit this. Smell’s a keen sense. Like how we can catch a wif of something and get sent back to a memory stuck in the vault.
Yeah so…we’re in consensus that they’d hoard the prefect’s perfume like it’s a lifeline? After they go home? Saw an animation where Ace kept their phone so he could call it and hear their voicemail. Now we’re here.
-
Riddle - who couldn’t bring himself to pilfer from your abandoned dorm and dislikes that he seriously considered it. Too nervous to ask what scent you wore but forever associates it with evenings in the library. Catching it on your wrist whenever you’d hand him a book. Mixed with the smell of old books and burning wax.
Trey - who borrowed one of your ties and decided not to return it. Not unless you asked. You didn’t. The scent’s almost gone, but he can figure out the main components. Buy something similar.
Cater - who has a handful of scrunchies and hairpins. You’d carry them for him. Lined up on your wrist like cased sausages. They all smell like you now. One even with a bit of spilled nail polish on it. Navy blue. Not Cater’s.
Deuce - who doesn’t think about it at first. Until he’s helping clean up your room and drops a small bottle on the ground. It cracks and the scent of cheap perfume permeates into the wood floor. He digs through the shards for a label, ignoring the cuts on his hands.
Ace - who sleeps in your room under the pretense that it’s for Grim’s sake. It’s not dorm betrayal. This was his room as much as it was yours. He’d sneak out or take a collar as much as Riddle’s patience lasts. Since he can’t sleep anywhere else.
Leona - who’s been close enough to you to memorize the scent. He knows the brand. Knows the make and year. Some cheap body spray that barely lasts longer than a few hours. Like gum. He sprays some on his pillows before bed, burying his nose between them and pretends it’s you.
Ruggie - who couldn’t help himself. He swiped your half-empty bottle with practiced ease. Using it sparingly, down to the last drop, spritzing just enough on his collar to make it through the hard times. Doesn’t matter the price now. He tries to tell himself ‘when it’s out, i’m done’ but he said that when you left and look at him now.
Jack - who forgets entirely. Until weeks pass and he finds one of ‘your’ sweaters in his room. A little travel sized perfume in the pocket. He sprays some on the collar and presses it to his nose. For a moment, you’re there.
Azul - who’s paid for new couches in the VIP room. Scent permeates into leather and you’ve spent night after night curled on the originals. They’re moved to his bedroom, where he sleeps on them more than his own bed.
Floyd - who’s used to everything smelling too big. The surface world’s full of more pungent notes. He asks (demands) rather garishly for whatever you had. Soap, perfume, lotion - he doesn’t care. In a world where smells are too big, yours has become too small.
Jade - who brews the same blend of tea every night. Serves it in the same cup, pours out of the same pot, and doesn’t take a single sip. He lets the scent evaporate into the air because it smells faintly of someone who would dab some on their pulse points. Just for him.
Kalim - who supplied your entire wardrobe. Who wouldn’t budge on it, and made sure you had clean clothes besides your uniform. You looked so pretty, so happy, and your gratitude made him feel so loved. He didn’t stop there either. You complimented his bedroom once and that was enough to send more blankets than you’d ever need. Especially after seeing how cold Ramshackle could get. They were for you. So why are these the only blankets he can sleep in? If he closes his eyes, pulls them close, breathes - you’re hugging him, right? From wherever you are.
Jamil - who’s struggling to clean his room. There isn’t much time to dawdle. His sheets need to be washed. His uniform ironed. Then he has to finish his duties, shower, and ready for bed. He opens the top drawer for a new set of sheets and is hit with you. That’s right. You did the laundry last week…he closes the drawer and goes to borrow a set from Kalim. The urge to pull them out strong, but Jamil’s always been resistant to his needs.
Vil - who’s suddenly caught wearing a brand far beneath his normal standards. He rarely shows preference to one over the other. Yet this cheap, poorly balanced - honest to goodness mockery of a perfume has become his favorite. No one knows why.
Epel - who let you use his cardigan one time. More like you stole it during your stay at Harveston. Grandma said she’d make you one for when you came back. You still hogged his. The fibers picked your scent and he’s afraid to wash it. What was supposed to bring homely comfort, now fills him with yearning and nostalgia.
Rook - who seats himself in front of the fire. Barely lit, dim, and more for the mood. To light this abandoned room in a new emotion. He takes one last inhale from the most intoxicating scent known to Twisted Wonderland, and then tosses it to the flames.
Idia - who fingers a little glass bottle between thumb and index. It’s almost gone. He could buy more. Make some. The tags were peeled off, but Ortho could dissect the contents with just a drop. He’s clinging. Idia knows this as he pops the cap and presses his nose to it.
Ortho - who’s learning how to make friends. With new emotions and freedom. He’s studied the senses and how they influence emotions. When asked if there’s anything he’d like from Ramshackle, he thinks of what his brother might like. Idia won’t ask for himself. Yet Ortho’s own thoughts surprise him, because why does he want this little bottle of perfume so badly? It’s nothing special. He can locate 10 online listings with competitive prices and quantities. Yet he specifically wants this one.
Malleus - who slips into Ramshackle at the height of midnight. A ruin once again with relics upon relics of a beautiful soul now gone. He loiters and avoids your bedroom. Yet when he enters the bathroom, he looks at his reflection in the vanity. His eye catches the smallest glass bottle…and he takes it. He dares to spray it once on his cuff. The yearning causes him to stow it away for the next century. Until he craves to feel their warmth and searches.
Lilia - who smiles fondly, pressing the lapels of your blazer down and into a box. Taking it in before that sense begins to dull too. Committing it to memory. In a decade or two he’ll cross its path again, and remember .
Sebek - who chases. Who shamefully gives in to instinct and attachment. Who sprays the last of some generic, cheap, alcohol based scent that was an assault to him with bittersweet yearning. He traps it on your portrait and seals it in a glass frame. If temptation’s going to linger in him, then let it drive him forward.
Silver - whose eyes open easily for the first time. His heart stuttering, mind shifting, attention sharp … the call of your name on his lips, as a random student shakes him awake during class. He asks what perfume they wear and commits it to memory.
Grim - who sleeps curled on one of Heartslabyul’s chaises. He can’t go back to Ramshackle. Home. It’s not home without you there. He sleeps with the same striped throw that was hanging on that old, green lounge chair. The one you’d wrap him in while he waited for the fire to stoke. Each night he begs for Ace to do whatever it is he does to make it ‘smell right’. When he sleeps, he can almost pretend the armrest is your side and he’s right where he’s meant to be.
it always cracks me up when people write Ace as a softie 🤣😂😂 Ace is ANYTHING but softie, be so fr bru😂😂 he’s a little shit who literally lives to tease and start stupid trouble😭 if i see a fic where Ace is written as a softie towards the reader, i already know the writer doesn’t know Ace very well. even with a partner, Ace would still be the same Ace. maybe he might be softer in private, but he’d never do 180° and turn into a full-on gentle boyfriend.😭😭
SUMMARY: He wanted to take advantage of that collaboration with Foothill Town to have a date with you. However, someone unexpectedly joins you, but that doesn’t stop him from surprising you in the end.
CHARACTERS: Jack Howl x Reader
TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Newly Dating; Flirting; Kiss
WARNING: Spoilers from Jack SSR La Bonbonnière
WORD COUNT: 3.060 words
COMMENTS: This was written before the cards were released on the English server, so I based it on @mysteryshoptls translations. And @ Valkyriii on youtube. You can read here the translated Vignette and Voice Lines.
This was also written as a supplement to the vignette’s story, therefore some parts that are identical are summarized.
And this new fanfic series is my way of celebrating 6K Subscribers. Thank you so much! ❤️
VIGNETTE CONTEXT: A collaborative project between Foothill Town and Night Raven College that aims to promote potential places to visit on Sage’s Island involves asking the birthday student to select an outfit that catches his eye from one of the options provided by the town’s tailor, and showcase a place on the island he would recommend.
You were chosen to film him in his new outfit, presenting the place he chooses and explaining why he likes it. The long-standing pâtisserie, Bonbon Recette, will also have a birthday cake prepared for him.
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Jack is a low-profile type of guy, and you two just recently started dating. He wants to take things slowly, and the fewer people who know about you two for now, the better; it will give you both more comfort in navigating your new relationship.
He also made sure from the beginning that you knew he has absolutely no shame about you or your relationship; in fact, he's quite proud of it. He just doesn't want anyone to bother you or him.
“I have to showcase something on the island, huh…” Jack says, walking with you down the Main Street of Night Raven College. “Can’t say I really know anything ‘bout taking pictures or videos, but I’m gonna make sure I get this done perfectly, since I gotta! You’re supposed to be my assistant today, right? I'd rather not bother you with this, but I'm glad to have you with me.”
“It wouldn't be any bother at all, Jack.” You say. “I already told you, I enjoy being with you and helping. If they hadn't given me this work, I would have volunteered anyway.”
“Heh heh. I sometimes forget how stubborn you can be. Not in a bad way, tho.”
“Tail.” You let him know.
He immediately tries to stop wagging his tail so much. You know that if someone is going to notice that his tail is happily wagging, he'd rather it be you pointing it out than someone messing with him about it.
“Thanks...”
“It's a shame.” You comment. “It's always so cute when that happens.”
“I don't mind if you see it. I just don't like anyone else seeing it. Anyway, guess the first thing is to go pick out my outfit for the day. If you have any thoughts, just tell me.”
Already in Foothill Town, at the tailor's Sewing Room, you help Jack choose his birthday outfit. He himself says that he doesn't understand anything about fashion and clothing combinations, so he ends up asking your opinion many times.
“Oh. How about this jacket?” Jack picks up a light brown one. “The sides are made outta different material, so I bet it’d be easier to move around in it, and it doesn’t look that bad, either… I think…”
You approve of his choice, and you see his tail start wagging.
“Oh good, I feel a bit more confident when you say that. I'll just try and find some shoes that go well with it too. Leather shoes would probably be the best choice. What do you think of these black ones? I don’t really know what’s appropriate or stylish, or any of that other fashion-y stuff, but black goes well with anything, pretty sure. Mm, these look sorta similar to the shoes I wear when I’m in my school uniform, so they don’t really feel special to wear…”
“I think they’re fine.” You say, even though you're not so sure about it.
“Let's try matching them with the jacket in front of the mirror... Hmm, I guess it’s not too bad.” But then he looks at your face, staring at the combination. “…You’re just dying to say how boring they look, ain'tcha!? Hmph, I can tell just from lookin’ atcha.” He looks at you a little upset.
“Aw, don't be mad. I just wanted to see how it would look first. Sorry.” You look at him with puppy eyes.
“OI! Don't come at me with’at!” He crosses his arms, but his ears droop, disarmingly. “Just you wait, I’m gonna pick something better.”
“Boots might look cooler.” You suggest.
“Boots? I feel like that’d be a little too casual for this… But I guess I can try it on for size.”
You look around and find a pair of brown and black boots to give him to try on. He puts them on and looks at himself in the mirror.
“...Oh, this actually works. It goes well with my clothes, and it’s actually easier to walk around in than it looks. Hey, you might actually have a knack for this kinda stuff.” He smiles and his tail starts wagging again. “That must be why you always look so beautiful.” He says it without thinking, but as soon as he realizes what he just said his tail stops wagging, his ears droop, and he blushes slightly as he puts his hand to the back of his neck.
“And even though you say you don't know anything about clothing combinations, I can't remember a single day when I haven't thought you looked handsome.” You smile.
His tail started wagging again, but he remained somewhat embarrassed.
“I've done a ton of research in magazines and online...” Jack says, and steps out from behind the fitting room curtain to show you the clothes he's chosen. He was wearing the light brown coat with a black sweater underneath, brown and black boots, and trousers with a crocodile-skin-like pattern. “How's this? I think I manage to pull it all together pretty well, don't you?” He smiles confidently at you.
“It looks so good on you.” You say.
“Yeah, I think I like this combo too.” His tail wags. “Thanks for your help. ...hm? Why are you looking at me like that?”
You were admiring the sight of him in his new outfit with a smile.
“Like I said, those clothes look good on you. I'm just admiring the view.”
He blushes and his tail wags faster, though his ears droop slightly in embarrassment.
“Why...” He puts his hand on the back of his neck. “ Why do you have to be so direct all of a sudden?”
“I mean, we're dating. There's no reason not to say so when I think my boyfriend looks handsome. Unless you're not comfortable with it.”
“No! That's not what I... I'm just... n-not used to it yet. But you're right. There's no reason why two people who are dating shouldn't compliment each other.” He puts his hands on his hips, assuming a slightly more confident posture, but not his most confident one. “You look very beautiful yourself. I was really happy when I saw you dressed like this for my birthday. Um... W-was it for my birthday or for the video?”
“I'm not the one who's going to appear in the video. Of course it's for you.”
He smiles so sweetly at you and wags his tail so fast that he hits a bench and almost knocks it over, but he catches it before that happens. You laugh and comment on how cute he is.
“Heh heh. Not as cute as you.” He says with a confident smile and attacks you with a hug, showering your face with kisses like an enthusiastic puppy.
“Alright, let’s head into town.” He says after breaking the hug. “And for the shoot that’s coming up... I'll be counting on you.”
You two walk through the streets of Foothill Town. You still don't know where Jack wants to take you for the video, but you enjoy the walk beside him.
“Guess it’s not too bad to take a leisurely walk once in a while. Especially with you.” He timidly and discreetly brings his fingers closer to yours. You intertwine your hand with his and he smiles affectionately. “There’s leaves all over the ground that it really feels like fall, huh.” He continues to chat casually, while gently stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. “There’s folks who’ll take the bus or ride a broom into town, but I usually run in as part of my training. Since I’m gonna be out and about anyway, it’d be a waste to not use my time wisely and work on myself, too. It’s also pretty good training to run with ankle weights strapped to my legs... Oh, we’re here.”
You stop in front of a repair shop. From smartphones to appliances, they’ll do repairs and maintenance on all sorts of stuff, just like the sign says. Jack talks about taking an old watch there, given to him by his father, to get it fixed and the owner did such a good job that the clock never broke again.
He looks at your intertwined hands with pity.
“It's not that I don't like feeling your hand in mine, quite the opposite, but...”
“You don't want someone who might make a big fuss about this to see it, right?” You say, understanding. “It's okay. I know you're still not comfortable with other people knowing and bothering us about it.”
“Thank you. Really. I promise that one day we won't have to hide it anymore. I'm just very grateful that you're so patient with me.” Jack looks around before bringing your hand to his lips and kissing it. He then reluctantly lets go of your hand.
Jack opens the door for you to enter first and greets the owner.
“Hm? There’s someone hiding in the shadows of the shelves over there.” He notices. “Is that… Idia-senpai?”
He approaches to greet Idia and ask if he was there for some repair service too. Of course, Idia wasn't happy about having to participate in a social interaction, but there wasn't much he could do now.
“What’re you being all shifty-eyed for...?” Jack asks. “Did you come here to get that box-looking thing in your hand repaired?”
“U-U-U-Uhh... Yeah... This is a high-voltage generator that requires a certified tech to tune it up... And I don’t have that, so...”
He also recognizes the clothes Jack was wearing and realizes that you two were there to film that collab birthday video. Idia stays in a blind spot of the camera while you're filming, but as expected, Jack is very tense during the recording.
“...That should be good enough. Let's check how it turned out. Show me the video you took, (Y/N).” He watches the video with the same expression of displeasure as you. “Hmm? ...Something feels off. I'm sure I explained everything I prepared, but...”
“LOL, look at him standing there straight-backed just repeating back memorized lines. Skippable ads’re way more interesting than that.” Idia mutters to himself in a low voice, forgetting that Jack's hearing is better than that of an ordinary human.
“WHAT WAS THAT?” Jack growls.
“Eep, he heard that from all the way over there!? Oh, my humblest apologies, forgive this poor soul who can’t ever tell falsehoods...”
But despite his sarcastic comments, Idia still managed to give instructions and advice good enough for you two to film a good video on your next attempt. Jack was so grateful for that that he invited Idia to go with you to the pâtisserie. Idia tried to refuse the offer, but Jack insisted and even grab him by the scruff and dragged him with you.
You went to Bonbon Recette, the pâtisserie where Jack's special birthday cake was waiting for him.
“They have a lot of seasonal sweets lined up.” Jack comments after sitting down with you and Idia at the table the waiter indicated, with a nice cake already there. “Oh, this must be the special cake. Looks pretty luxurious, huh.”
“Happy Birthday!” You say.
“I-I got dragged in after all...” Idia murmurs. “Great, now I can’t just not celebrate him... happybirthdayiguess...”
“All in all, that was a pretty good experience. (Y/N), Idia-senpai, thank you for everything.”
When he finally tastes a piece of the cake, he is pleasantly surprised. It was a chestnut cake with pear compote inside the cream, his favorite.
“Huh? J-Jack, your tail’s wagging a bit. Looks like that cake really hit the spot... Fweehee!” Idia comments with that mocking little smile.
“Eh? Y-You’re imagining things. It’s just a coincidence...”
Idia lets this one pass and continues eating the cake without messing with Jack any further. You all enjoy the cake and some other sweets. Some time later, Jack excuses himself to go to the bathroom, and Idia sees this as his opportunity to escape.
“H-hey, (Y/N). There's absolutely no problem with me leaving now, right?” Idia asks you with an awkward smile. “If Jack asks, just make up an excuse. Any excuse! IDC! I trust you on this.”
And so he leaves the pâtisserie, shortly before Jack returns.
“Hm? Idia-senpai is already gone?” Jack says. “When did he...? He’s way too good at slinking off. Well, I can't say that this doesn't relieve me a little.” He murmurs at the end.
“Relief? But you were the one who invited him.” You say.
“Oh, no. I wasn't talkin’ about him being here with us. I was just saying I'm relieved now because I don't have to ask him to... hm...” He gets a little embarrassed. “So, I noticed a new dessert they have here, and the waiter told me it was part of a ‘couple's experience’. So... I've been thinking about how to ask Idia to leave, but thankfully I don't need to do that anymore. Hmm... Would you like to try this dessert with me?”
“Of course.” You answer.
“Great!” Jack gets excited and his tail starts wagging, but soon he clears his throat and tries to contain himself. “He told me we have to go to a small room they have for this. Hmm... you know, to have more... privacy.” He blushes slightly.
You accept and get up to go with him to the said room.
The waiter opens the door for you, and Jack gestures for you to go in first. It was small with a quite chic decor, but strangely there was only one thing in that room: a table. The only chairs were miniature ones on top of the table, as well as miniatures of a round table and a sofa. Before you could ask if you were supposed to eat that dessert standing up, Jack says:
“Don't worry. It's all part of the experience. I'm still not sure if it's as good as they say but I think you'll enjoy it.” He smiles.
The waiter arrives with a small Mont Blanc and places it on the table. Nothing else, no cutlery, no napkins, nothing, just the dessert. Jack thanks the waiter as he leaves, closing the door and giving you privacy. Ambient jazz music also began to play from the small speakers in the corners of the room.
“They even thought about the music, huh? This should be a good thing but... I don't know why it makes me a little...”
“Shy?” You try to guess.
“I... I don't know if... um, maybe.” He rubs the back of his neck, his face flushed.
“It's okay. It just makes you cuter.”
“Oi! That kinda comment doesn't help right now, ya know?”
"I know." You laugh. "So, what now? Shall we try the dessert?"
“Yeah, but I can try it first.” Jack offers. “I want to confirm if what they told me is true and let you decide if you want to participate in this or not.”
Jack leans against the table, picks up the Mont Blanc, takes a little bite, and puts it back on the table. In the next second, he suddenly shrinks! Since he was leaning against the table and not sitting down, he ended up clinging to the edge of the tabletop, hanging there. You reached your hand under him to help him climb onto the table, even though he was strong enough to have done it himself.
“Well, it seems they weren't exaggerating about the effects of the cake.” Mini Jack says, in a voice that sounds a bit like a cartoon squirrel to you, and you can't help but chuckle. “Yeah... I imagine this is a funny view from your angle.” He concluded, slightly sullenly. “Well, you saw what it does. They say many couples have fun with this. I still don't know exactly how, but if you want to try it, the effect only lasts an hour.”
You pick up the Mont Blanc.
“WAIT! BE CAREFUL!” He quickly warns you. “You saw what happened to me. You'd better sit down at the table before trying it. You might fall when you shrink and hurt yourself if you don’t.”
You follow his advice and sit at the table. Jack's instinct was to look at that part of you, which made him blush and turn around 180 degrees. You take a little bite of the cake and put it down just in time before you shrink. Jack comes to you and helps you to your feet.
You two were now the same size as the Mont Blanc, approximately the size of a doll, and the perfect size to sit in the miniature chairs or sofa. The latter seemed more appealing to you. But before that, you look at the Mont Blanc and get an idea.
“Hey, why don't we take a picture of you with the dessert?” You suggest. “It'll make such a great photo!”
“You think so? Well, you're the photographer. And I trust you.”
He follows your instructions to sit carefully on the plate next to the Mont Blanc with the part you didn't bite into, and was still intact, facing the camera. You seem very happy with the final result.
“Did it turn out that good? Let me see.”
Jack sees the photo, but he doesn't seem to understand why you like it so much. In fact, it's an amazing photo, but you seemed to like it in a different way. He was simply happy that you were happy.
“Honestly...” He says, a little awkwardly. “I don't know what to do now. They mentioned that people were amused by this effect, but what can we do? It's not like there's any activity for us to do at this size. Apart from the photos, I think.”
“Perhaps this size was just so couples could have more privacy.” You think aloud.
“More privacy? What do you mean?”
“Why don't we just enjoy ourselves?”
You grab him by the lapel of his blazer and gently pull him with you to the sofa. He doesn't resist, he just follows you like a dog being led on a leash. You make him sit on the sofa and he almost sits on his tail because it was wagging so much. You sit on his lap and kiss his cheek, wishing him a happy birthday once again.
He looks around at the small, empty room, listening to the jazz music playing in the background, slowly realizing what you mean by privacy being part of the experience.
You were gently kissing his face when he suddenly started kissing yours back. His kisses started out soft like yours, but gradually and quickly became more passionate. Until he made you lie down on the sofa beneath him, controlling his body to be as close to yours as possible without putting all his weight on you, and kissing your face, lips, and neck like an enthusiastic dog licking its owner after holding back for so long.
If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
SKINSHIP . . . in which ways they show physical affection.
ft. kalim al-asim, jamil viper, idia shroud, silver
p.s! my first request, i hope this finds u anon!! part one here
KALIM AL-ASIM
he’s sticky like glue, always needing a reason to be next to you.
honestly, you could be doing whatever and he’ll be happy just to sit by your side and watch!
he’s the type to play footsie with you beneath the table while you study, the one to brush your hair back from your face when it gets in your eyes. during dinner time, his food is the first to get cold, much more focused in feeding you, his fingertips skimming your lips with each bite. “say ahh,” his grin is contagious and he happily takes the opportunity to be fed by you as well.
(also the type to make a mess of crumbs from the desserts on the corners of his mouth, hoping you will kiss it off)
it should go without saying that he adores cuddling and sharing blankets with you. his arms spread wide like an invitation and he beams when you jump into his embrace.
even when it runs hot during the day he can't find it in himself to complain, not when you're curled up into his side, no space between your bodies. if you wear an oversized shirt, somehow, in his sleep, he sneaks beneath the helm. you wake up to his hairs tickling the spot beneath your chin, his cheek squished into your chest.
he’s especially clingy during the early hours, stubbornly tightening his arms around you when you try to get out of bed. it always ends up with him sleepily following you around your routine, his nose pressed into your neck and arms loosely holding you around the waist, opening his eyes just enough to watch you brush your teeth.
when it’s his turn to get ready, he purposefully raffles up the collar of his uniform just so he can have the excuse for you to fix him up.
as much as he enjoys you holding his face, he also undeniably loves to hold yours too. he squeezes your cheeks together, making your lips pucker before he presses his mouth to yours with an exaggerated mwah.
it rarely stops with one kiss, quickly leading into two then three, pressing his lips every part he could reach until you’re physically prying him off.
“sorry, i can’t help myself!” his words vibrate off the curve of your cheek and you feel more than hear his giggle when he nudges his nose against yours. “just five more?”
his fingers curl beneath your jaw, tilting your head to the side so he can scatter more kisses.
“i can’t breathe, are you trying to suffocate me?” he can hear the grin in your voice and he matches it.
“of course not,” he’s smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. “do you want to switch spots? i want to be kissed a little too.”
kalim likes to rest his head on your chest. it not only grants him the opportunity to be as close to you as possible and but also, maybe worm his way into getting his hair played with too. he nearly falls asleep on the spot the first time you scratched at his scalp softly with the blunt of your nails.
so, it’s not surprising when he develops the habit of randomly grabbing your hands and plopping them into his head when he wants his hair to be played with, giving you a grin as though he was trying to convince you. “we can take turns,” he promises, already fitting into your lap when you don’t pull away.
it’s also probably one of the few times you can get him to sit still. that or offering your hand for him to play with, flexing and unbending your fingers as he rambles about something jamil told him earlier that day.
big or small, he appreciates any and all opportunities for skinship. he matches your energy and will also gladly settle for holding your hand, drawing hearts on the back with his thumb instead if it’s ever too much <3
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
JAMIL VIPER
sorry jamil fans this might be a little ooc
not the touchiest.
but he has a way of subtly showing off as your partner; it’s the way he presses his hand to your back briefly when he passes you, shoulder nudging yours. he holds your hand— fully holds, fingers slipped through the dips, squeezing, when the hallways are crowded, silently promising not to let go. when he sits next down to you, he places a hand on your thigh, grounding him to your presence.
can be a bit of a tease: flicking your forehead, pinching your cheek when you get sauce from the meal he cooked for you on your face. when he kisses you, he nips the bottom part of your lip before he pulls away. quite assertive really,,, holding you by the jaw, curling a finger beneath your chin if you’re shorter than him to lift your gaze. he sometimes sneaks his hands beneath your shirt, not bothering to hide his grin when you squirm.
but he also has his softer moments too. when it runs cold outside, he cups your hands, pressing hot puffs of air to warm them up. he absently adjusts your clothes, folding the cuffs for your sleeves or straightening your collar(even when it’s already straight).
easily gets absorbed just tracing your arms and palms. he draws out the bone structure beneath your skin with his finger, tracing out the faint veins and scrunches in your palm. when he reaches the spot above your knuckles, he presses down with the flat of his thumb, squeezing gently. he’s so mesmerized he doesn’t even realize he’s subconsciously reaching out for your hand to play with when he’s sitting to next you.
it takes some time before he lets you touch his hair. it’s so soft and silky, evidently treated with care.
he’s a bit shifty when you brush along his head at first, touch not belonging to him so foreign and rare. he struggles to suppress the tiniest of shivers when you trace his baby hairs, the cool of your fingertips like balm to his tensed figure.
ohh yeah he’s addicted.
when it’s time to sleep he wordlessly tucks his face into your neck, a secret code that he’s ready to relax for as long as the universe would let him and his sigh gets muffled into the cotton of his shirt when you brush back his bangs.
he won’t ever admit it out loud but he has a soft spot for when you hold his face between your palms. “it’s like i’m holding my whole world on my hands!” you would give him a bright smile and jamil short circuits lol.
being taken care of by you is a guilty pleasure really; brushing out his hair for him, messaging out the knots in his shoulders, momentarily taking his mind away from the noisy routine.
critical hit if you pepper kisses all over his face. he rolls his eyes as though bothered but it quickly falls into a pout when you try to move away, his arms stubbornly tightening around you. “that doesn’t mean you should stop.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
IDIA SHROUD
the smallest of touches make him fluster.
you once asked him to compare hand sizes with him, and he nearly astral projects when you slip your fingers through the cracks. he opts to hold your pinky instead for the time being as he builds up his confidence for hand holding (so scandalous)
though, you catch him on occasion ‘accidentally’ brushing his hand against yours, glancing at you from the corner of his eye before doing it again, mirroring off a scene he vaguely recalls watching. he chickens out before you could get hint and messily shoves his hands into his pockets instead.
truthfully, he’d like to touch you. he often catches himself in his head, daydreaming scenes of his favorite anime and imagining him and you in place of the main characters. his hair sparks a familiar pink when he wonders how soft your lips would be on his or how nice it would be to hold you so close that there was space between your bodies. he promptly smacks himself on the forehead when his thoughts start to become indecent.
with time he loosens up a bit—> key word a bit.
you’re talking to him but he’s struggling to understand your words when he spots a stray piece of your hair sticking to the corner of your mouth. wait…. he doesn’t mean to look directly at your lips!! though,,, it’s very nice,,, it just happens to be in his line of sight, he swears.
he’s internally screaming, his thoughts frazzled and it doesn’t occur to him that he's reached out and thumbed it away until you're thanking him with a smile. and. his. fingers.are. still. pressed. against. your. cheek. FAHH
before he could erupt into a concert of stutters and reel back, you hold his hand with your own, holding it in place. “i like this, you should do it more.”
“i— huh?? oh.. o-okay.”
playing video games with him is a must! … though he's a bit distracted, admittedly. he doesn't mind it too much when he's missing a couple points, not when all he can think is how close you are to him and if he so much as twitches his knee it will bump yours. that’s how it was initially at least, his younger self would die if he knew the way you would drape your legs over his lap, playing with the long ends of his hair while he muses about a game and his terrible teammates. (he’s grateful you’re not looking directly into his face but his hair, having a mind of its own, isn’t doing him any favors either).
it takes some convincing and small pleas but he eventually relents, letting you paint his nails. you have to hold his fingers still because he’s so nervous he’s shaking, the spots beneath his nose hidden behind the pillow he holds to his chest.
“did i do a good job?” he nods but he's not really looking, more focused on watching the way you’re cradling his fingers between your own. or the fact that’s he so close his knee is grazing yours or if he looks up he might head bump you or if he breaths too hard you might hear it and, wait, does that mean you can hear his heartbeat too— or if—
“p-p-perfect! thumbs up!!!” he says, immediately flinching when his voice comes out shaky and loud.
he appreciates your small pats of support when he curls up in himself, burrowing into his bed for the rest of the day.
he’s still learning, but he’s willing to try, for you.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
SILVER
the epitome of a gentleman
you could be dating since the crib and he’s still going to ask before kissing you or initiating anything too intimate.
silver’s the type of person to be satisfied in just being around you; he doesn’t need to be physically touched or showered in platitudes… though he certainly wouldn’t mind if you do.
you can ask him to kiss you anywhere and he’d be more than happy to indulge you, but, if he had to pick a favorite, it would be the ones he can see your face, his heart racing without his permission when you thank him with a smile he adores so much.
his favorite spot to be kissed is anywhere; if it’s coming from you that’s enough. more often not though, he enjoys when you brush your lips against his forehead. it gives him an excuse to hold you and maybe sneak some more kisses too.
you know he wants one when he looks up at you, sweeping his bangs back to expose the spot between his brows.
“now i know i will have a good day,” he says it so seriously but he pats his bangs back down like he’s shielding your kiss for himself.
silver’s the one to wordlessly offer his hand or elbow to you, always accompanying you to class despite his own being across campus. kisses the back of it before letting go; his smile is shy from behind your skin, cheeks rosy as he mouths a quick promise of finding you after class into your knuckles.
sleeping against you, it’s a given.
his sleep spells can be frustrating but it’s not too bad when you offer your lap to him. he wanted to say no at first, it might not be as comfortable for you as it would be for him; but you give him a look he knows he can’t argue with and he relents.
he can’t suppress his blissful sighs when you card your hands through his hair, and the hairs on his arms rise when you scratch the sensitive spot on the back of his neck.
he’s grateful, and he tries to tell you as much while his eyes grow heavy and his sentences curl towards the end, telling you he’s falling asleep. his kiss to your thigh is little more than a weak thump, his “i love you, you know that,” fading into soft inhales and exhales.
he’s a little dazed when he wakes up, his cheeks warm when you hold it. he won’t question if you styled his hair in his sleep or slipped on any clips, he won’t even bother to remove them, basking in your visible affection as long as he could. “you okay?” he asks because of course he’s always thinking of you first.
“mhm, just want to hold you like this a bit.”
“okay,” he sags into your touch, his nose grazing your palm. “if you insist.”
in the rare instances he’s awake and you’re asleep he is always attentive. when pooling rays of sunlight make your eyelids twitch, he shifts to cover the glare. he holds your hand as you sleep, stroking the curves and indents of your knuckles and he only lets go to peel off his coat as a makeshift blanket.
he’s also not against carrying you (on his back, by the waist— whichever you voice preference to) to a better spot if necessary. he lingers for as long as possible until his duties pry him away and he kisses the spot between your brows, whispering how he will be back later.
discoholicmusic
pixelskylines
areudirty
2087
stormborns
theartofmadeline
izzy806
