Livi's Writing Blog [REQUESTS OPENED (i think)]

oliwia/livi || 19 yo || pol/eng || writing some random stuff

[blooming-dahlia]

TWISTED WONDERLAND MASTERLIST

A place where you can see all the works from Livi

Heartslabyul

Savanaclaw

Octavinelle

Scarabia

Pomefiore

Ignihyde

Diasomnia

Ramshackle & Others

[blooming-dahlia]

A NEW RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS ONE-SHOT!

Long time no see! I'm not sure if I'll be more active now (busy with university and some other stuff) but I really wanted to share this one-shot with you! I wrote it almost a year ago in my native language, but now I decided to translate it into English and finally publish it. It's set in my own Twisted Wonderland next gen I started creating back in 2020 and it's still in progress, but I'm not sure if I'll ever release it to the public lol Anyway, enjoy!

Link <3

(yes, I do enjoy making Riddle suffer)

[blooming-dahlia]

RAMSHACKLE DORMITORY & OTHERS MASTERLIST

[blooming-dahlia]

DIASOMNIA DORMITORY MASTERLIST

Malleus Draconia

Silver

Sebek Zigvolt

Lilia Vanrouge ╰The Most Important Moments of Our Lives (Fae!Reader & Diasomnia family hcs)

[blooming-dahlia]

IGNIHYDE DORMITORY MASTERLIST

Idia Shroud

Ortho Shroud

[blooming-dahlia]

POMEFIORE DORMITORY MASTERLIST

Vil Shoenheit

Epel Felmier

Rook Hunt ╰Having Fun Is More Important Than Winning (Rockstar!Mc!reader at VDC scenario)

[blooming-dahlia]

SCARABIA DORMITORY MASTERLIST

Kalim Al-Asim

Jamil Viper

[blooming-dahlia]

OCTAVINELLE DORMITORY MASTERLIST

Azul Ashengrotto

Jade Leech

Floyd Leech

[blooming-dahlia]

SAVANACLAW DORMITORY MASTERLIST

Leona Kingscholar

Jack Howl

Ruggie Bucchi

[blooming-dahlia]

HEARTSLABYUL DORMITORY MASTERLIST

Riddle Rosehearts ╰Sweet Marriage (Housewife!Reader hcs) ╰My Dear Friend I Love You (one-shot)

Ace Trappola

Deuce Spade

Cater Diamond

Trey Clover

[blooming-dahlia]

My Dear Friend, I Love You - (Late) Valentine’s Day Special! [Riddle Rosehearts]

╰ Ace sighed heavily as the red and pink heart-shaped cards fell out of the box onto the floor. This year, he and Deuce were in charge of the special Valentine's Day mail at NRC because Riddle wanted them to do something more productive than the things they usually did. And Valentine's Day happened to be right around the corner, so as their beloved friend, you suggested they should volunteer as mailmen for that special occasion.

╰ “I had no idea the students here are so affectionate. How many are there?”

╰ “Come on, Ace. We have to sort them and deliver them to the right classes before our first lesson starts.” Deuce was already on his knees, picking up the cards from the floor and reading the classes written under the students' names. Then he started sorting them carefully, making sure nothing gets mixed up. “I could use some help, you know?”

╰ Dissatisfied and still a bit sleepy, Ace knelt down beside his friend and picked up a pink heart made of paper. This one was addressed to Idia Shroud, the housewarden of Ignihyde. A mocking laugh escaped the redhead's lips.

╰ “That’s an interesting one, let’s see what’s written here.”

╰ Suddenly, Deuce snatched the valentine out of Ace's hands and put it on the class 3-B pile. They weren't supposed to read personal things like love letters, but it was obvious that Ace didn't care. As fast as he could, he began to read the contents of another card he spotted.

╰ “Dear Vil Schoenheit, I'm free on Valentine's Day after 7 PM, so maybe we could meet and watch a movie or eat something delicious at a fancy restaurant. If you're interested, please wear your favorite high heels, I want you to step on me with them- what the hell is this?!” Ace burst out laughing like a maniac before placing the heart on the class 3-C pile.

╰ Another minute passed. Deuce still tried to concentrate on his work, while Ace continued to make ridiculous comments on almost every next letter. Some of them were indeed genuine, full of sweet words of affection, while others were more questionable and not entirely serious. Or at least Ace hoped so.

╰ Vil turned out to be the winner in terms of the amount of valentines received, which wasn't surprising. Somehow Malleus Draconia also managed to get the most cards, both from his class and dormitory. Finally, Deuce picked up the last one, which was visibly different from the others. First of all, it wasn't a heart-shaped piece of paper, but an elegantly wrapped letter. Someone definitely wanted to stand out and impress their crush, they thought. But that wasn't the only reason this valentine was intriguing. The mysterious letter was addressed to [Y/N] [L/N] of class 1-A, the non-magical student and best friend of Adeuce duo.

╰ “I don’t trust them.”

╰ Riddle read the draft of his letter once more before turning to Trey, who was standing in the doorway. The special mail was scheduled to start tomorrow and last until the early morning of Valentine's Day before Ace Trappola and Deuce Spade take the mailbox to sort the cards and finally deliver them to their addressees.

╰ The main problem was the fact that this year's mailmen weren't the most responsible people in Night Raven College, and Riddle was well aware of that. There was no way he was going to take the risk of writing an entire essay expressing his true feelings for you, not if it was going to end up in the hands of those two troublemakers.

╰ “Maybe it's time to finally give them a chance and let them do something that would prove their sense of responsibility?”

╰ “No, they will read it, I am absolutely sure.”

╰ “And that’s why you decided to write [Y/N] a love letter starting with ‘My Dear Friend’? Or maybe you’re not certain about your feelings towards them?” Trey noticed. In fact, Riddle had been struggling with his confession to you for some time, and the upcoming Valentine's Day seemed like the perfect opportunity to end that suffering. You were his first love, after all, and it was obvious that Riddle was nervous, even though he tried to act cool most of the time.

╰ He was also curious if you had made a Valentine's card for anyone. Maybe for Ace and Deuce, since they were your best friends? Or maybe a tuna-scented one for Grim? Unless... no, that couldn't be true. Riddle didn't even want to think about you being in love with someone else. He knew it was selfish of him, but he had fallen head over heels for you and there was nothing he could do about it. He had to confess before it's too late, before some other guy steals your heart.

╰ With a sigh, Riddle took a formal paper and concentrated on rewriting his letter on it. Most people cut colorful sheets of paper in the shape of a heart, but that wasn't his style. Trey went back to the kitchen some time later, allowing Riddle to bang his head against the desk in peace. Why was it so hard to confess to someone, even if it was just through a simple letter?

╰ “My Dear Friend- damn, [Y/N] just got friendzoned through a valentine.”

╰ Deuce tried hard to resist the temptation to read the card, but eventually ended up listening carefully to every word Ace read. This time there was no mocking or laughing. While reading it, they weren't quite sure if this was a love confession, since the person who wrote it seemed to think of you more as a friend than a crush. Either it was a friendzone declaration, or this person was just terrible when it comes to feelings.

╰ “I would be honored if you would accept my invitation for a cup of tea and a nice walk afterwards. Sincerely, the housewarden of Heartslabyul, Riddle Rosehearts.” Ace’s eyes widened immediately, his hands almost clenched on the letter. “No way. I mean, I know the housewarden and [Y/N] are on neutral terms, but him sending them a valentine card seems... oddly out of character.”

╰ “It looks like he's just grateful he can count on [Y/N] and nothing more, we don't need to make any serious assumptions based on what we just read. Anyway, let's just put this on the pile and wait for classes to start so we can finally deliver them and get it over with.”

╰ Meanwhile, you've entered the school building together with Grim, who's been annoying you with questions about when you're going to buy him tuna cans for Valentine's Day. He could at least try to pretend to like your gift for him, a cute sweater with "World's #1 Cutest Cat" written on it.

╰ Your first class started few minutes ago, but there was no sign of Ace and Deuce. As you pulled your textbook out of your bag, you stumbled across a nicely wrapped gift with a note attached, and immediately remembered why your friends weren't showing up. You didn't drop your valentine in the special mailbox set aside for the occasion. Instead, you put a lot of effort and love into your gift for Riddle. The worst thing that could happen now was for him to reject you. That thought was the only reason you hesitated to give it to him.

╰ The door opened and the Adeuce duo made their grand entrance. Professor Trein was about to make a comment about them being late, but Ace quickly made that impossible as he began his speech, or rather, shouting. “Class 1-A, here comes your special Valentine's Day mail! We have a lot of them because we're the best class at Night Raven College.”

╰ You watched as your friends handed out Valentine's cards to particular people. At first, you had no idea that the students at NRC celebrated Valentine's Day just like the ones at your old school. It was heartwarming to see the joy on your classmates' faces when they received their cards.

╰ And then Ace placed a card next to your textbook. You looked up at him, confusion in your eyes, but he just grinned and sat down next to Deuce, who was already reading the contents of his own valentine. What had just happened? Someone sent you a valentine? You studied it and noticed that it wasn't a regular card, but a fancy looking envelope with a letter inside. Feeling a bit uncertain, you decided to open it after classes.

╰ It wasn't surprising that Riddle didn't receive any valentine, but deep down he was hoping to see a card with your signature on his classroom desk. He should have known that this feeling was one-sided, and besides, there were no signs of your interest in him on a more romantic level. You often attended the Unbirthday Parties and even spent some time with Riddle privately. When you needed help with your studies, he was always willing to help. But Riddle was drawn to you more than he should, and it was killing him inside.

╰ You stumbled upon Riddle in the school library. At first you weren't sure if you really wanted to approach him, not after reading his letter. It was sincere and sweet, but something about it made you feel uneasy. Riddle thanked you for everything you'd done for him so far, wrote a simple compliment, emphasized the word ‘friend’ a few times, and invited you on... you didn't know if this was a date or not. You felt stupid for expecting more, knowing that Riddle was trying his best.

╰ Riddle looked at the nearby clock and realized it was time to finally leave the library and return to Heartslabyul. You had to act quickly or you would lose your only chance. Just as he got up from his seat, you threw the gift on the table, causing confusion on Riddle's face. Heartslabyul's housewarden blinked a few times and then turned around to see your cool gaze.

╰ “For you.”

╰ And that was it. Riddle didn't even manage to say a word as you ran out of the library, leaving him alone and confused. That wasn't your plan, of course, but it was now or never, right? The only thing you could do now was to hope that Riddle wouldn't think any worse of you, especially since the way you gave him the Valentine's Day gift wasn't the right one. It wouldn't be surprising if he started to ignore you after that.

╰ Opening the box, Riddle found handmade heart-shaped chocolates. He examined them to make sure everything was all right, then carefully took a bite of one. It tasted like heaven, the strawberry filling doing its job perfectly. Riddle ate another chocolate before he began to read the note attached to the box.

╰ There was no doubt that you were smarter than him. Riddle could always give you the letter in person, one in which he wasn't playing around with hiding his true feelings, instead of throwing the other one in the mailbox just because he didn't want Ace and Deuce to find out about his crush on you.

╰ “Dear Riddle. I'm sorry I didn't have the courage to send you a valentine card by special mail. Instead, I wanted to do something different. Trey gladly agreed to help me make these chocolates for you, especially with your favorite flavor filling. Today is Valentine's Day, when both friends and lovers spend time together, give each other gifts, and so on. Let this gift be a reminder that you have people who love and care for you, that you deserve everything that's good and sweet in this world. And if you don't have anyone to celebrate this day with, I would love to be your valentine. Sincerely, [Y/N], your Dear Friend.”

╰ Those last three words were written with a different ink color, which made Riddle quickly realize that you had just added them, probably after reading his letter. The boy sighed, a soft red blush spreading across his face. Then he grabbed the box with the note and made his way back to the Heartslabyul dormitory, where someone special, his dear friend and valentine, was waiting for him.

It's been a long time since I posted something here, I promise to be more active from now on :D

[harfanfare]

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

How to win the heart of Epel Felmier?

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

Be a zealous apple lover.

You envy this boy’s name.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

2. Challenge Apple to a sled race.

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

3. Have some baking skills.

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

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

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

“You again?”

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

“Unfortunately.”

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

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

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

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

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

Apple doesn’t let you use a knife.

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

“Barely.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You get up in a hurry.

“…I didn’t say that.”

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

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

4. Get into NRC and survive a shock.

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

“Cheers!”

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

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

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

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

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

Apple empties his can and briefly glances at you.

“Nothin’ special about it…”

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

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

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

“No, look here. Your name, Apple!”

“It’s… Correct.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, Epel!”

“Go to ya Apple boy.”

“No!! I said I’m sorry!”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎

5. Get sorted into any dorm but Pomefiore.

“Stop laughing.”

“I can’t…! Ha…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You chuckle at the dead glare he throws you.

Epel finally sighs.

“…I would like to change the dorms.”

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

“…Thank you.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

5.5. Sorted into Pomefiore exception.

“You ain’t elegant at all, though.”

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

“You are blind.”

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

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

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

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

“It can’t be that bad.”

“No?”

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

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

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

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

6. Listen to your manly man complain about Vil.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can’t. You are my fan.”

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

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

7. Argue, duh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well. You always knew you were a hopeless romantic.

“Breaks from each other, huh…”

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

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

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

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

8. Go through the silent treatment phase.

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

You stared blankly at the screen of your phone.

— today —

Epel: Hey

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

Epel: Grim and prefect invited us for gaming night

Epel: dont ya DARE do skip it again

— seen: now —

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

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

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

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

And that’s it.

…

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

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Years?!”

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

…

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

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

Epel gets up from his seat.

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

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

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

10. Have Epel fight for your love!!

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

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

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

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

“Where are we heading to?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

“Dear Sevens, I said it…!”

[harfanfare]

Unique Kisses: Honest Fellow

Heartslabyul || Savanaclaw || Octavinelle || Scarabia || Pomefiore || Ignihyde || Diasomnia || Rollo, Che'nya, Neige || Honest Fellow

a/n: Implied female reader (”princess” pet name), fluff. I have no idea how to deal with the brainriot that came with the appearance of this shady man, like what.

Honest Fellow (teasing kisses)

“My little star,” Fellow’s lips trail your knuckles, and you can feel a smile against your skin as he feels your pulse quicken. He has the audacity to look so gentlemanly, oh so very blithely, as if this idea has just struck his head under this evening’s romantic atmosphere. “May I have this kiss?”

You’d like to reply, really, but in the next second there are lips on your jawline and a glowed hand that raises your chin; the words you had on your tongue die as you gasp slightly, your eyes fluttering open by the sudden sensation.

Well, you’re charmed. Infatuated with love or ensorceled by a thick layer of Fellow’s unique magic, you don’t reject those dramatic touches, scenic enough to feel like being pulled into a play where a gentlemanly prince kisses a princess.

And while Fellow might have the reputation of being a gentleman, he’s too impish, too rouge to be one. He can only play the role, the facade might even drop, but dumb princesses—you dare to compare yourself to one as Fellow uses that pet name, among countless others—are known for falling even for twisted men.

“Why so quiet?” He asks, and you quiver with frustration, as he seals your lips again. That damn bastard; he thinks the navy suit he wears makes him look sleek and the way he tucks his holey gloves off is luscious enough to make your cheeks blush. He isn’t that wrong, yet…

…It is infuriating to dance to Fellow’s tune in a choreography he is a lead to. Even if you love him.

“Stop… teasing me like this,” you manage to lift your head enough so that you break the kiss. Fellow snorts at your poor attempt to catch a breath and at the weak try to keep him at your elbow’s distance, as he holds you close to his chest. The sweet scent of the cologne he wears makes you even more dizzy.

He moves his hands to your hair and tucks the stray locks behind your ear. If he could grab the camera, he would capture the adorable expression you wear—but he doesn’t want to waste his time searching for that fickle thing, no, no. He isn’t able to concentrate on anything else, and he needs to satisfy the whim of alluring you (once again) before he’ll be physically able to move away.

“My, you don’t sound very convincing,” he smiles and strokes your cheek so gently. “But I will believe you. Loveliest, just say a word, and I’ll just kiss you goodnight for the last time.”

Like you could’ve expected, you aren’t granted a chance to say anything else. He kisses you more and more, and at this point, the most fastidious princess would be already satisfied.

…Fellow might be scared. He might not want to hear your answer, even if the look in your eyes and the way your heart beats should be enough to suffice any of his questions.

If you could utter a word, you would confess your love once for the thousandth time.

“That’s right. The silence says it all,” he whispers as his thumb traces your lips. “You are so gorgeous, and you are mine.”

Like a doll. But you’re no doll, you’re more beautiful than any masterpiece magic could ever create. You’re free, and you choose to stay with him. There are no strings attached to your hands that keep him at his side. There is just one, tightly knotted on your heart and it’s a cherished bond you put on yourself.

He doesn’t have a puppet in you. He has a lover who will shower him with selfless love, yet he still can’t believe anyone would have given it to him for free.

So, he must’ve stolen it.

He smiles. “By obligation of being a thief, I will steal your heart all over again, and keep it safe with me.” I love you. “That’s the duty bestowed upon you being my treasure.”

[blooming-dahlia]

hi! I'm not too sure if your ask is open right now and if it's not then I apologize. I found your writing style to be pretty nice si I was wondering if you could do a Lilia x reader. Diasomnia family headcanons. Reader is a fae who worked under Meleanor during the human-fae war. Ended up helping him with Malleus. A headcanon for the family dynamics in the Diasomnia family with reader. If that is not too specific, would you be alright with taking that request? I'd understand if you don't.

The Most Important Moments of Our Lives [Diasomnia, Lilia Vanrouge x Fae!Reader]

╰ Sometimes when you lie in bed, you like to reminisce about the old days. It's crazy how things can change so suddenly. And the biggest change you have noticed so far is your family life.

╰ At first you considered being an NRC student at your age as something odd, but having Lilia by your side definitely helped you gain confidence. To other people at school, you are just another average student because you have never revealed to anyone (except your closest friends) who you really are.

╰ Still, you are grateful to be here, as you can continue to watch over Malleus and Silver. While you don't spend much time with them during the school day, you like to ask them about their classes and if they got good grades when you finally return to the Diasomnia dormitory.

╰ Being Malleus’ babysitter was something you would never expect to happen. One time during the human-fae war you found youself wounded badly to the point where you couldn’t fight anymore for a very long time. You felt completely useless until one day you were given a very important task by Princess Meleanor.

╰ And then you found yourself alone with Lilia Vanrouge and an egg. But not just any egg, it was Meleanor's precious egg with her baby inside.

╰ Lilia used to tease you a lot when you first started helping him with little Malleus once he was finally out of the egg. In fact, you've never taken care of babies before, let alone dragon babies, so it wasn't an easy job for you.

╰ But as the years passed, you grew accustomed to your new life. When Malleus was older, you taught him many things, such as the proper use of magic. Even now, he looks up to you and asks you for advice. Sometimes, when you pass through the halls of NRC, you can hear some students making jokes about you being Malleus' secret lover, based on what they can see. This thought disgusts you, since you literally helped raise him many years ago.

╰ Raising Malleus and later Silver happened to be the thing that brought you and Lilia closer. During the war, the two of you weren't particularly close, but you still had some respect for each other. Until one day you became the 'parents' of a dragon egg. There were times when you considered leaving because of Lilia's teasing, but you knew you couldn't do that to Malleus.

╰ This experience taught you a lot, but you felt what it's like to be a parent for the first time the day Lilia found baby Silver. It was completely different compared to Malleus' situation. At first you were hesitant to take care of a human baby, but seeing it so small and vulnerable changed something in you. Quickly you and Lilia became Silver’s parents.

╰ Your current relationship with Malleus… Well, he refers to you as [Y/N] at your request, and in fact you two have grown to be very good friends. He doesn't spend as much time with you as he does with Lilia, but you're still important to him and he's grateful for everything you've done for him in the past. You also make sure that Malleus gets every invitation to any party he's invited to. You just want this boy to have the best possible time during his NRC years.

╰ Being Silver's adoptive parent has its ups and downs. Sometimes he falls asleep with his head on your lap while you stroke his hair and reminisce about the times when he was a child. After classes, Silver often comes to you for study sessions. You can't believe how attached you are to him, and you don't even want to think about losing him one day. He's still your son, after all, but you know that finding his real parents would be nothing but heartbreaking.

╰ There are days when you can't understand Sebek at all. The two of you aren't particularly close, but you still care for him like you do for the rest of your little Diasomnia family. He seems to be calmer when he's around you, after you got mad at him once when he woke up Silver. Other than that, Sebek is really respectful to you and sometimes even jealous when you're paying more attention to Silver.

╰ Last but not least is Lilia himself. You and he are the parents of the family, and even Malleus said once that the two of you eventually should get married. You don't deny that something happened between you and Lilia while you were raising Silver. But then this something just disappeared, and you can't even figure out why. The more years passed, the more Lilia became interested in trying out newer, more modern technologies and other things, while the rest of the time was spent with Silver.

╰ Until one evening, after a tiring day full of classes, after-school activities, and some Diasomnia business stuff, you finally entered your room and saw Lilia sitting on your windowsill. He was singing something under his breath while his fingers slid along the strings of his guitar. Then it hit you. It was the same old lullaby you used to sing to Silver when he was a baby. Tears immediately welled up in your eyes, while a small smile formed on your lips.

╰ “You remember that song word for word after all these years?” You asked, walking closer to him. Lilia stopped singing and turned to you, a chuckle coming from his mouth.

╰ “My dear, the most important moments of our lives should never be forgotten. And you singing this lullaby to Silver for the first time is certainly one of them.”

╰ There was a hope. A hope that this ‘something’ hasn't died yet. You didn't want to hide it anymore. The feeling of love you held for Lilia was finally ready to be revealed to him.

╰ But before you could say anything, both you and Lilia suddenly got a notification on your phones, which turned out to be a reminder. ‘Kalim’s party at 9 PM’.

╰ You sighed and wiped away your tears with the sleeve of your school uniform jacket. “I should go now and inform Malleus about the party, in case he hasn't recieved an invitation again. You can… continue playing the guitar and singing.”

╰ On your way to Malleus' room, you couldn't stop thinking about what you had just seen and heard. You probably won't forget it during the party either. After all, the most important moments of your life should never be forgotten.

Thank you for requesting!

[blooming-dahlia]

Hello Livi <33 May I request reader being housewife for Riddle? I would love to hear your thoughts about that. Thanks in advance!!

Sweet Marriage [Riddle Rosehearts]

╰ Every time you see someone from your high school on the street and talk to them, they can't believe who you ended up tying the knot with. In fact, even Ace and Deuce were shocked when they received an invitation to your wedding, even though they knew you two had been dating for so long.

╰ Ace was absolutely convinced that one day you would eventually break up with Riddle due to his specific nature, but being one of the best men at your wedding was definitely not something he could have expected.

╰ As for you, well, you still can't believe you're finally married to the man you love. One of your favorite things to do when Riddle is at work is looking at the photos from your wedding. The professional ones you keep in a photo album, while the others are in the gallery on your phone, most of them being the ones Cater took and sent to you later.

╰ No matter what other people say, you couldn't ask for a better husband than Riddle. During your NRC days, he was often insecure and worried that he might do something wrong and, worse, hurt you unintentionally. He had never been in a relationship before, so this was all new to him. But over time, with a little bit of your help, he was able to gain some confidence.

╰ After your wedding, Riddle became even more affectionate towards you. Even when he's at work, he can't help but call you whenever he has the chance, just to ask how you're doing and tell you how much he loves you. The best moment of the day is when Riddle comes home and you can finally throw yourself into his arms.

╰ Sometimes you get the feeling that Riddle is overworking himself a bit, but every time you try to look for a job, he assures you that everything is fine and that you don't need to do that, because the last thing he wants is for you to overwork yourself as well.

╰ Of course you do things like cooking and cleaning every day. At first you thought that Riddle might be angry with you if he found out that you missed a few spots while cleaning or didn't do anything at all on a particular day, but it quickly turned out that he could be more understanding than you would ever imagine. That's mostly because you're his wife, whom he loves dearly, and not some random troublemaker like Ace and Deuce.

╰ The house you live in once belonged to one of Riddle's relatives, but since they moved out a long time ago, they gladly decided to sell it to you. It's not a super exclusive and luxurious mansion or anything like that, it's rather a small and cozy house, just perfect for you two. You also have a garden that you always take care of.

╰ On weekends, you two always go shopping. You can't even count how many times you've asked Riddle not to spoil you with gifts he buys for you behind your back while you're shopping, but you can see he doesn't care. He strictly follows the belief that a wife must be spoiled a lot by her husband.

╰ There are moments when the two of you argue. It is not often, but your fights can be really intense sometimes. However, Riddle can quickly turn from angry to concerned and ashamed the second he sees you crying, no matter who started the fight. He just hates to see tears streaming down your face.

╰ The thing you definitely avoid the most are family meetings. While those with your parents are somewhat tolerable and quite enjoyable, those with your husband's are the exact opposite. You're thankful they don't happen often, since you are probably at the top of your mother-in-law's list of people she hates the most. Every meeting with Riddle's family so far has just been you trying to hold back your tears until you finally get home.

╰ When there is nothing to do while Riddle is at work, you often hang out with your friends. Most of the time, they like to tease you about being a married woman so soon. To be honest, you are surprised about it yourself. Who would have thought that Riddle Rosehearts would propose to his girlfriend right after she graduated from NRC?

╰ Riddle himself also keeps in touch with some people from your high school, the main ones of course being Ace, Deuce, Trey and Cater. Obviously you knew it would be the last two, but the troublemakers came as a complete surprise. Riddle somehow learned to tolerate them instead of yelling at them every second, especially since they are not in Heartslabyul anymore. Once, however, he loosened up to the point where the Adeuce duo got him drunk as a silly prank. Poor Riddle has never experienced anything like this before and became extremely clingy to you when he, thanks to Trey, returned home. Eventually he ended up crying, so you had to comfort and cuddle him until he fell asleep, but you didn't mind it at all.

╰ It is obvious to Riddle that you would never cheat on him. But there are still times when he can't help but get a little jealous. He spends most of the day at work, so he doesn't really know what you're currently doing unless he calls you. Also because of this, the two of you don't spend as much time together as you'd like. He understands that you might feel lonely, so as long as you don't cheat on him, you can hang out with whoever you want.

╰ When it's your birthday, Riddle always has something special planned for you. He even leaves work early to surprise you with a fresh bouquet of your favorite flowers and then takes you on a date to places such as a restaurant and theme park. When it's Riddle's birthday, you always try to bake his favorite strawberry tart, but you fail anyway, so you call Trey to come over to help you. For some reason, Trey always comes with Adeuce duo and Cater, which results in a huge party for your husband.

╰ Eventually, one day you apply for a job of your choice. You know that Riddle wouldn't have to work so hard if you could also earn some money. It was not easy to break this news to him, but in the end he said that it was your own decision and that he would support you no matter what.

╰ Sometimes your friends ask when you and Riddle will have children of your own. You're both still very young, so he isn't going to force you to have them now, but if you decide one day that you're ready, he would love to have two or maybe even three. Riddle doesn't feel confident enough to tell you this yet, because he's afraid that you might think it's too much for you, or perhaps you don't want to have children at all. Still, he finds you to be a very gentle and caring woman, and he's sure you'll make a perfect mother in the future.

Thank you for requesting!

[harfanfare]

Hey! I really love your "how to win the heart of." Can you do one for Vil? If not that's totally fine I'm just curious.

How to win the heart of Vil Schoenheit?

Be a fan.

You like to think that the oldest memory you can recall is how you became Vil’s fan.

Until then, the recitals your school took you on were boring. Only in fifth grade, the teachers realise that, hm, maybe ancient plays might be a bit too much for those little brains, and in a spark of determination to change something, your class was taken to watch a staged version of a fairy tale, played by youngsters for youngsters.

The memory of Vil, the villain of the story, entering the scene is much more vivid. Even as a child, he was inarguably elegant and strikingly beautiful, it left you agape and your curious heart beating loudly in your chest.

“It’s better than having a completely fictional crush,” your classmate said after you confessed how much endeared you were by Vil and his acting. You listened as you typed a password to a newly-created Magicam account, solely for following him there. “There is a chance that you and him will be together.”

“A big chance?”

“Uh, like this?” She tries to show how big your chance is with her fingers. She wants to leave a gap between her fingers, but ultimately, they touch, and she puts her hands down. “I mean, we are almost the same age, so maybe you can go to the same high school as him? In a very long future…”

“I am not delusional…”

Nonetheless, the thought did make you hope.

After you reached the age of sixteen, the invitation came. For a whole year — since you saw Vil’s post on his new college choice — you’ve been pondering whether you’ve possessed enough magic talent to get into Night Raven College, the school of chosen. In good dreams, the Magic Mirror deemed your soul to be solely fit for Pomefiore. In nightmares, you were doomed to… well, any other dorm, if you were a student at NRC at all.

And maybe dreams really come true because the future you’ve anticipating has turned into a reality.

“Alright, is everyone from Pomefiore here?” Your heart stops when you hear that wonderful voice, this time not from your phone nor from 100 meters away from the speakers. You turn around, and there he is, Vil Schoenheit in all his glory stands and guides the students to the hall of mirrors. He looks like a portrait, and even if you saw his face thousands of times, the glint in his eyes redeems you speechless. “Congratulations, everyone. We will hold the welcoming introductions at our dorm. Follow me!”

Yes, Vil Schoenheit is your idol. And in the first seconds of meeting him, you were ready to follow him to the end of the world.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

2. Get rejected. Have your heart broken.

“I apologize,” Vil says slowly, and you notice how his voice is a little monotonous. Just a bit, as if he had repeated these words countless times like the lines before a recital. “And while I wholeheartedly appreciate your feelings, [Name], I want to focus on my studies and career. It’s a bad time for me to think about dating. Nonetheless, thank you for being brave and sincere enough to tell me all of this.”

You nod. The pain in your chest gives you goosebumps. It makes your head spin so fast your legs feel unstable as if there is some shift in gravity. You bow with curtsy because every Pomefiore student should be able to do so elegantly even on a space station. “Thank you for listening to my confession.”

“Of course,” he says and looks down at the letter he got from you. It’s neat, somehow cute with how carefully his name is written on it. He holds it gently so as to not crinkle the delicate paper. “I will read the contents tonight.”

“Thank you. No need to write a response,” you force a little chuckle and excuse yourself. You will be overthinking how could you say something like that after you get over your stupid letter and even dumber confession.

Vil doesn’t say anything as you walk a little too fast to keep the step elegant. He sighs at this view and mindfully tucks your letter amid the pages of the book. Now’s the time for history class. He shouldn’t get distracted—

—and soon enough, you’re out of his mind.

That is until he reads your letter.

It's a beautifully crafted confession, put into elegant lettering and a pale pink envelope. It's sealed with red wax in the shape of a perfect heart; if you haven't used magic, it must've taken several evenings to get the precision you wanted.

You’re his fan. He knows it even if you hadn’t pointed it out; the well-tailored sentences betrayed your utter attention on him in the last several years. You’re his fan, but you don’t cheapen yourself. He is the idol you admire and love, but you don’t degrade yourself to a servant or a worshiper. And that is, unexpectedly, uncommon.

The letter is—also—a challenge to yourself. “If you were to reciprocate those feelings, I will prove myself worthy to stand by your side,” it reads.

He likes that letter. Once he finishes it, he skims over the text one last time and puts it between many other letters he has gotten. Between them, another envelope seems unremarkable, yet the words there…

Unforgotten.

He sighs. Maybe he will pay more attention to you from now on.

‏‏‎ ‎

3. Don’t remember all the etiquette rules.

“You wrote in your letter that I've inspired you to learn. Go on, then. Show me how motivated you are.”

So, now Vil bullies you over your letter.

He can’t be satisfied with your scarce etiquette knowledge—he wouldn’t be content if it was decent, as it would be a dishonour to Pomefiore—but amusement crinkles in his eyes at your utter confusion over the numerous forks, knives, spoons and glasses. They’ve been spread out in several rows and columns varying from the oyster forks to champagne flute.

You hesitate. Maybe you could point out which one is the butter knife or sugar spoon, but you never cared enough to discover which fickle knife is a fish knife. Should you be looking for the one with grooves or an extremely thin one? Would it hurt to use a normal knife to eat the salmon?

Oftentimes you’re thankful there is no awkward silence between you and Vil after your confession, but you can’t shake off the impression he’s been harder on you.

“On second thought, maybe I wasn't motivated enough to learn all the names of cutlery,” you say, not daring to try your luck in labelling each piece.

To your surprise, Vil smiles and uses a teasing tone that leaves you stunned and wide-eyed. “Is that so?”

You take a breath and huff, lowering your eyes. “Yes. The power of—,” unrequired, you bite your tongue on that bitter word, “—love ends here.”

Vil cracks another delighted smile. You start suspecting that someone drugged him with a smiling potion, as you should have received a severe scolding by now. You don’t have anything against the change, so the mention of Vil’s (relative) laid-backness goes unmentioned.

“I will have you seated next to me on tomorrow's dinner, so don't even think of slacking off,” he says, putting a hand on your lower back and gently pushing you towards the next table where the heavy textbooks look so very uninviting. “I won't have any student under my wing not know the basic etiquette. Especially if it’s my fan.”

‏‏‎ ‎

4. Have opinions and the courage to voice them.

Because standing for your own makes you flourish in your own colours and not blend into the monotony of the mainstream. Seek truth, good, and beauty and you will bestow the brilliance upon yourself.

‏‏‎

5. Try to have a healthy lifestyle.

You’ve never imagined Vil barging into your room with a tray of food. Why would he? But here you are, sitting in front of an aesthetically pleasing breakfast, mouth-watering pancakes with cream and a bit of honey, and the deep green shake in question that suits the colour palette but probably tastes awfully, like all good stuff packed with vitamins.

“You should never starve yourself if you want to live healthy.”

It’s hard to swallow anything as your dorm leader glares at you, but Vil refuses to leave you before he sees you eating the stuff he brought. You wondered if he prepared the breakfast himself. Probably not.

“No? I thought that keeping a diet is good.”

“If you are dieting you eat,” Vil hisses and sinks a little more into the couch. He brings a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as if he suddenly got struck with a headache. “Oh, heavens. What am I going to do with you?”

“Maybe—”

“Quiet,” it apparently was a rhetorical question. Maybe Vil would be mad at any answer from you as he considers you a fool. He waits until you take another bite of the pancake. “A dinner break will be in two hours, and I expect you to be there.”

“I think I will still be full by that time,” you admit, glancing at a pancake and a half. “These pancakes are savoury but so very filling.”

“Savor them as much as you like,” Vil says somewhat proudly. …Maybe he did make those pancakes? No. He wouldn’t bother this much. The satisfied note in his voice makes you ponder nonetheless. “But you have no excuse for yourself not to sit with us on the meals. Also—”

His gaze grows unexpectedly impish as his eye catches something.

“I will reeducate you on the topic of a healthy lifestyle,” he glances at the bowl of bland lettuce you prepared for yourself. He smiles, either in amusement or light pity. “It should have a little more… spice.”

‏‏‎ ‎

6. Take an interest in high culture.

“It feels like the hellish lessons of Heartslabyul…”

“The Queens’ 810 rules?” Vil’s smile is lopsided and his eyes render into a knowing look once they meet your gaze. “They are nothing compared to a number of customs in etiquette.”

You take a turn. The classes for today might have ended, but if hearing all that useful stuff meant you would walk with Vil back to Pomefiore, you could bear another few minutes of a lecture. You know that everything he tells you about, he already mastered. He wouldn’t teach you anything half-heartily.

“The etiquette of speaking, the dress code, the knowledge of dinner manners (well, you’ve mastered some part of it already, with the cutlery lessons), the control of body language, the indication of voice, the honorifics, the art of writing letters and emails… You don’t want me to list all of the things I expect from you?”

You would like to, because Vil’s voice is beautiful, but the student part of you takes over control and shakes your head. Just like Riddle, who has a reputation for demanding impossible care and inquiring rules, your dorm leader is not much better — maybe even worse, because while Heartslabyul has to oblige the absurd in chosen hours or circumstances, you are on your toes in every moment.

“So much to master in just four years in the NRC…”

“It’s a lot,” Vil says, and he’s the only person you would doubt if he speaks the truth in that matter. Especially if through your walk his strides seemed perfectly calculated and hand gestures finely planned. “But if you put a mind and heart into it, you will learn all of this in no time.”

You hum. It’s hard to think of having any more motivation than from where you were a zealous Vil fan.

You ask (ponder) and he delivers.

“Actually, I have an offer: if you’ll learn it all in ahead of time, I will teach you a dating etiquette.”

…

What?

“…Dating etiquette?!” You shriek so loudly, that several students turn their heads. You cover your mouth as if it would do something, and ignoring Vil’s delighted gaze, and lower your voice to a whisper. “There is such a thing?”

“Of course. Who should invite who on the first date and where, what gifts can you give and what can you accept, and how to behave with your loved one, like,” he pauses a little, and you almost know he bites the sides of his cheeks to contain himself from smiling, “How to kiss someone in particular situations.”

You want to die. How else should you react? How can he tease you so much when he rejects you? (Not like you were expecting much at the time, yet…)

“There is no kissing etiquette. You tease me…”

“Just a little,” Vil laughs, and you slowly relax. “But take my proposal seriously. If I can give you another motivation to engage in your studies, then I will by all means do so.”

‏‏‎ ‎

7. Get an access to his private Magicam account.

“Do you have Magicam? If you want to, you can add me.”

Vil asks the question. He should have chastised you for mindlessly scrolling through social media because you can probably put your mind and hands to better use. The casual tone surprises you, but the inquiry gets you defensive as if it questioned you being Vil’s fan.

“I’ve already been following you for years,” you declare and pull up your phone.

Before you get to his profile, Vil sighs.

“Not the promotional account,” he says. “Mine.”

You frown. Many times you’ve seen Vil posting the photos on the “promotional account” with his personal thoughts. Maybe because you've been blinded by the elegance and harmony of every post, the idea that he would operate the Magicam profile solely for business purposes has never occurred to you.

“You have another account?” You ask, flabbergasted.

Vil rolls his eyes at the surprise in your tone and sits next to you. Your phone beeps as you get a notification about a new user following you. In a heartbeat, you follow the account back. You almost gape at the pictures there; they are beautiful, elegant, and all in Vil’s manner, but he looks like… a common student. Not ethereally, not otherworldly, but still enchantingly.

“It’s a private profile, so I ask you for discretion. I would like to keep this one for my close friends and family,” Vil says, and you hastily nod, your heartbeat sounding like a drumbeat in your ears. Having access to his personal account felt… personal, ironically.

I would like to keep this one for my close friends — he said that, didn’t he? Does he consider you a close friend?

That’s more than you ever imagined.

And yet you dare to dream for more.

You pull your phone close to your chest. “I feel honoured.”

Vil smiles at the statement. “Of course. As you should.”

‏‏‎ ‎

8. Let yourself be pampered.

“Don’t move,” Vil asks for impossible because you want to bolt as he leans to you once again and only the glare he staggers you with as you push away the urge to close your eyes. You hope the foundation is thick enough to cover a blush that creeps on your face. “You will ruin my work.”

You give up and glance down, earning another heavy sigh from your superior.

“Maybe I should finish the eye makeup myself?” You offer. “I am unused to anyone doing my makeup, so it’s hard not to flinch.”

Your good intentions get ruined as the question aggravates Vil even more because he frowns at you. Staying put and keeping quiet about that whole ordeal would seem like a lovely idea, you question whether your heart could manage another hour in this setup.

“Don’t be absurd,” he says. “We need to handle your sensitivity to the touch or you will struggle in the future if you decide to be a model.”

“I am not—”

“Stop.”

“I—”

“Silence. Be quiet, potato,” he presses his finger to your lips to seal them shut. You feel something sticky, and as his finger traces your lips, you realize it’s the lip gloss, and it’s a very good-smelling one like a strawberry; you didn’t expect something so sweet-tasting to be in Vil’s liked products. “You are under my care now. It also brings me satisfaction to see my skills used on someone.”

“Vil—”

“Shut up,” it’s hard to get offended at him, as he uses such a gentle tone. He takes a good look at your lips and as he glances up at you, probably to see if the colours of the whole makeup are consistent, your mouth goes dry. “Before I tell you to do so, don’t speak. You will mess up with the lip gloss and it’s… difficult to apply one on you.”

What? It’s difficult to apply the lipgloss on you?

Alright**,** you nod, pondering if the lip makeup is really that difficult. Do you have an unusual shape of lips (it’s probably not that?), or is this balm so hard to spread? You sit still, as Vil moves closer to you.

Yeah, except for the touch you need a way to ignore the beating of your heart.

‏‏‎ ‎

9. Move on from your heartbreak.

“Would you like to go out with me today?”

A kind smile convinced you to agree, although you barely recognize the name of the boy standing in front of you. His voice was hopeful, and you were reminded of the time you bore the same expectant expression.

You had no heart to let it fall, not right now, not so quickly, so you paint a delighted smile over your face. “Thank you. I would love to.”

…

You should’ve done this a long time ago.

For the sake of your friendship with Vil, you decide to stop hoping that the man of your dreams might change his mind after getting to know you better. He found a friend in you, and you would hate to disappoint him with your longing for him.

So, you should distract yourself from him and fall in love with someone else.

Today’s date will be a perfect opportunity.

You dress quite stylishly, not enough to steal all the attention, but enough to impress your date. You put more effort into the makeup this evening and spend some time picking the most fitting jewellery. The perfume you picked is subtle but alluring and chic, an excellent concoction, but you could’ve expected nothing less from Vil’s recommendation.

…It feels kind of wrong to use everything he taught you to prepare for a date, but you would’ve used this knowledge one day either way, no? It’s not like he is your first… and last love.

“I heard a boy from Scarabia have confessed to you,” the familiar voice you love but don’t want to hear like now spooks you. Vil leans on your door frame, and you wonder how much he has stayed here.

“I just agreed on a date,” you say, standing up and adjusting the folds of your outfit. You look him in the eye. “How do I look?”

Vil snorts, and his lips stretch into a mean, devilish smile. “Are you expecting an approving comment from me?”

Asking the fashion icon to rate your outfit might’ve been a wrong move. You shake your head.

“Nevermind. He’ll have to deal with however I am if he doesn’t want me to be late,” after glancing the last time into the mirror and receiving a smile from your reflection, you pick up your phone. “Well then. I shall get going.”

Vil is still, as if he hasn’t been blocking the exit or as if he wanted to keep you here. You would have loved for him to stop you here. It’s hard to stop the disappointment from flooding over your composure when Vil moves away.

“Alright. Your look is satisfactory so that Scarabia boy better be grateful for being able to go out with you,” he says something ambiguous again, and you feel bad for your date who will have to deal with such a lovesick fool as you. “Enjoy your date.”

The pang of pain pierces your heart. You smile slowly and leave the room.

The heartbreak better goes away as soon as possible, or you’ll go crazy if the thought of dating anyone else hurts that much.

‏‏‎ ‎

10. Look kissable.

“You’re late.”

Maybe you are, but you haven’t been expecting Vil waiting for you. He sits on a sofa, a book is in his hand and the tea that was served in front of him looks cold. You can guess he’s been sitting here for a while.

“How did it go?”

“It went well, I think,” you say. The date went well. Yet, you couldn’t have enjoyed it. The throbbing pain in your heart strained each of your smiles, and it surged when the Scarabian student started to be flirty. You felt as if you were cheating. “He is a kind guy. He has some hobbies and is quite charismatic, so… He’s alright.”

Vil hums. “Will you settle on ‘alright’?”

You stare at him wide-eyed, but he doesn’t look bothered at all. He didn’t lift his gaze from his book, and his tone was nonchalant, so he almost seemed not interested. He was. He is because Vil never asks the question to whose answers he doesn’t want to hear.

“Pardon?”

He spares you a glance.

“I thought your resolution was stronger. What happened to the person who confessed to me and was so willing to determine their worth to me?”

“Are you jealous?”

“I am furious,” he lifts from the sofa, the book forgotten. The air around suddenly grows warmer, and the shiver you didn’t mind that much runs down your spine. Vil’s strides are slower than usual, creating an imposing image of himself before he stands just before you. “If you want to set the bar so low, go on. But let me give you a taste of ambition.”

He twists his head so his eyes meet directly yours. He doesn’t touch you — not yet — but you can feel a warm breath on your cheek, and the scent of his light perfume envelops you. You have the urge to move away and cling to him at the same time. They balance, and you stay still.

A taste…

Vil puts a hand on your cheek. The gesture is much softer and more benevolent than when he was putting makeup on you. His eyes lock with yours, your heart stops, and then they drop to your lips. He moves a thumb over them.

And he kisses you.

In your dreams, you had him kiss your hand, the top of your head. The corner of your mouth. In your boldest wishes, you wanted him to kiss you like that, so lovingly, with so much care. It makes you want to push away for more air, but it makes you worry Vil will disappear if you break the kiss, as all the dreams shatter upon the morning.

He moves away, not breathless, yet not unaffected either. His cheeks burn slowly into a red shade, and his eyes look somehow glassy. “I told you, I will give you just a taste.”

How disappointing.

Before you can say something, he pushes a letter between your fingers. Its envelope matches the one you gave him several months ago. “Read it. I want an answer by midnight.”

The big clock on the wall shows you have over three hours. So much time, and you already know the answer. “You will wait this long?”

“I am giving you a chance and hope,” he says with a subtle smile. The blush on his face makes him more beautiful than you’ve ever seen him. “It’s my duty of your idol to do so.”

[blooming-dahlia]

Could I request MC!reader giving a rockstar performance for the VDC contest? Rockstar as in their singing and performance blew everyone's's socks off. I'd like to see Pomefiore's reaction (emphasis on S/O Rook).

Especially at the end of the VDC while they're super disappointed they didn't win, at the same time they explained it felt like they were truly living and alive.

(Song sung: Empire by Shakira)

Having Fun Is More Important Than Winning [Pomefiore, Rook Hunt x MC!Reader]

╰ At first you weren't sure if you really wanted to participate in the VDC. You knew that if you won by some kind of miracle, NRC would count it as a big success.

╰ Yet you were afraid of Vil's reaction. After all, he and his team had been preparing for this event for a long time already, and you were always there supporting them during the several hours of intense rehearsals. How would the boys feel if, out of nowhere, you jumped on the stage and surprised them with your solo performance?

╰ Finally, you realized that you had nothing to lose. For such a long time you had wanted to show others what you were capable of, but there had never been a chance to do so. The members of the Light Music Club were the only people aware of your talent, and they even insisted that you should perform at the VDC.

╰ “I'm sorry, Vil.” You whispered to yourself and then, after fixing the strand of hair that had fallen across your forehead, you made your way towards the stage.

╰ Everyone fell silent when you started singing somewhat uncertainly, while your friends were watching the whole performance from backstage.

╰ Vil didn't think it was anything but a terrible joke. The song was especially slow and boring. He didn't say that you can't sing at all, on the contrary. The thing is, there's no way you could win a contest like VDC with your depressing ballad.

╰ Epel, on the other hand, seemed to be enchanted by your vocals, he also admired you for your bravery. He thought he could even do a solo performance just to annoy Vil a little.

╰ Most impressed, however, was Rook. So far, he thought Neige's performance before yours was the best of the evening. But then you took the stage and stole the show with your voice. Rook had been interested in you for some time already. Once he discreetly asked Vil for your Magicam account and seemed a bit disappointed when he found out that you didn't have one yet. That's why he took pictures of you from behind, like a typical stalker. But this time, no picture on the phone screen could make him feel as emotional as watching you perform live.

╰ And then, you surprised everyone again. This time, when the chorus hits and in the span of only one minute, you're no longer a non-magical NRC student from another world. You are a true rockstar.

╰ The crowd was loud, much more than you could ever expect. But it didn't throw you off balance. In fact, it only boosted your confidence. The way you hit higher notes made everyone scream even louder.

╰ “Is that NRC's student from another world? The magicless one? I've never heard anyone sing so GOOD in my entire life!” Someone in the crowd could ask.

╰ Meanwhile, the whole backstage was screaming your name in awe, Ace and Deuce being the loudest ones. Even Vil smiled a little when you moved to the chorus, obviously satisfied with the sudden change. “And that's how you make an excellent show.” He said to himself in a proud tone. Epel simply nodded, surprisingly able to hear Vil's words through all the noise.

╰ And then there was Rook. He didn't shout or cheer. He just stood there and watched you, his mouth slightly open, but not a word could be heard. His focus was only on you performing. Even Vil and Neige were no match for you, Rook thought. To be honest, it was unusual for someone to be better than those two. Maybe you had no magic in your veins, but your voice was enough to enchant some people. And Rook Hunt was definitely one of them.

╰ After your performance, you simply bowed and left the stage. You didn't go backstage because you were afraid your friends would be disappointed and upset with you. You just stood outside the stage, nervously waiting for the contest to end.

╰ Royal Sword Academy has just been announced as the winner of this year's VDC contest. You should have expected this, but you were still a bit disappointed. There was no way Vil wouldn't be mad at you for ruining NRC's chances of winning.

╰ You couldn't see their faces, but you could imagine Vil gritting his teeth and clenching his fists, while everyone else just stood there in disbelief, trying not to cry or break anything backstage. Except maybe Rook, who was probably pleased with Neige's win.

╰ The said blond-haired boy standing right behind you surely wasn't something you expected to see when you turned around. He just stared at you with a sympathetic look on his face. You were confused, but quickly managed to get a few words out of your mouth.

╰ “Aren't you happy?” Only a few people knew that Rook was a big fan of Neige, and somehow you'd made it into that group. It was obvious that you would think he would be happy about this turn of events. But there was something about him that seemed off.

╰ “I would be lying if I said I wasn't pleased, but tonight I was suddenly struck by Cupid's arrow and someone else has stolen my heart and soul, Mon Ange.”

╰ A slight blush appeared on your cheeks. There was no way he was referring to you, was there? But somehow, deep down, you really wanted to believe that it really was you. “Oh, really? And who might that person be?”

╰ Rook chuckled, and before he could say anything more, the other two members of Pomefiore approached you. Epel quickly began to praise your performance, while Vil just stood there, his expression rather displeased. But it wasn't because of you, he was obviously upset about losing the VDC.

╰ You just sighed and turned to him. “Look, Vil. I know you are disappointed that we lost, I am too. But hey, at least we had fun, right?” You hoped to cheer him up a bit. Vil's eyes widened at your words.

╰ “Yes, I think you are right. Maybe I was a little too focused on doing this to win rather than for fun.” You could see that he was ashamed of himself, especially since he saw during your performance that you were doing it to finally get your talent noticed, not to win the way he wanted.

╰ “Oh, do not be so ashamed, Roi du Poison. You have done an excellent job. Our performance was magnificent and it was all because of your incredible charms!” Both you and Vil side eyed him, knowing perfectly well that he still preferred Neige's performance.

╰ But then Epel spoke and suggested that you should perform with them at the next VDC. This took you completely by surprise and made you tear up a little. Your friends finally saw your talent.

╰ “Why not? When I was on stage I felt like this was my place and definitely one of the best experiences of my life. And I couldn't ask for anything more than to perform with you.”

╰ Vil smirked and fixed his hair a bit, while Epel's face lit up at your answer. Rook just nodded in satisfaction and bowed to you in a gesture of respect. This was an evening you'll never forget, even if you finally return to your world, leaving Twisted Wonderland for good. But now all you want to do is spend some time and have fun with your friends. Especially the blond-haired hunter, whose compliment meant more to you than any other person's in the world.

Thank you for requesting!